


Third-Degree Felony

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Third-Degree Felony [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Child Abandonment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Prostitution, Gen, Legal Drama, M/M, Making Out, No Smut, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Police, Ryan McMurphies Is Deliberate, Season/Series 01, Serious Fucking Subject That Ryan Murphy Played Off Like A Joke, Therapy, Threats of Violence, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1315231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puck didn't intend for his disclosure of what his summer was like to land him in the middle of a large-scale criminal investigation. He was just looking for a shoulder to cry on and someone to take him seriously. He finds a better best friend in Finn than he ever realized.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third-Degree Felony

**Author's Note:**

> We never felt comfortable with how Glee presented a canonically 15-year-old Puck's "pool cleaning," which was obviously purposefully intended to appear as prostitution, as a comic and high-five-worthy situation. RIB played prostitution of a minor (below the age of consent in Ohio, and certainly outside the legal age to have sex with someone 18+) for laughs. 
> 
> Compelling prostitution in Ohio is a third degree felony ([Ohio Rev. Code § 2907.21](http://codes.ohio.gov/orc/2907.21)) If the person compelled to engage in prostitution is less than 16 years old, the offense is punishable as a felony of the first degree, which can lead to a prison sentence from three to ten years and/or fines up to $20,000.

Noah Levi Puckerman was born on Wednesday, November 16, 1993. His parents and his Nana Connie take a total of ten rolls of thirty-six exposure film between the moment he was born and the end of the party they throw following his bris. 

Noah starts kindergarten in late August of 1999, and this time there’s just one roll of twenty-six exposure film taken by his parents. Puck starts middle school in August of 2005; his mom takes two pictures. By the time seventh grade starts a year later, Puck doesn’t really think about pictures anymore. He’s too busy trying to survive middle school, socially and academically. Eighth grade is more of the same, and he takes Santana Lopez to the eighth grade dance. No one takes a picture of Puck, but Santana says that her mom made her pose for pictures before they picked Puck up. Puck snorts and tries to kiss Santana, and by the end of the night, they’re making out. Santana pulls away and threatens Puck that if he tries to feel her up before she decides he can, she’ll slap him. Puck asks if that means they’re dating, and this time it’s Santana who snorts before she tells him no. 

The summer before high school, Puck splits his time between lifting weights and walking around the neighborhood looking for odd jobs. He’s tired of having to eat the free lunch every day, so maybe if he makes some money, he can buy stuff out of the vending machines or sneak out of school for lunch sometimes. Most of the jobs are pretty crappy or one-time-only, but Mrs. Blake needs someone to clean her pool every week. 

Puck tells her that yeah, he definitely knows how to clean pools, and he’ll be back in two days to start, because that gives him two days to find out how to clean pools and get ‘the equipment’ that Mrs. Blake says Mr. Blake never bought. Mrs. Blake wants to pay him a _lot_ for cleaning the pool, though, a lot more than the other jobs, and she’s pretty helpful, too, suggesting Puck clean it in his swim trunks, in case he falls in. 

When Puck starts high school at the end of August in 2008, his mom doesn’t take a picture and doesn’t seem to remember that he’s even starting high school, but Puck doesn’t really care. He has some spending money saved up from the summer, he’s pretty sure Santana’s going to let him feel her up at some point during their freshman year, and Ryan down the street, who graduated from McKinley two years ago, saw Puck working out over the weekend and invited him to his super-secret fight club. Puck’s pretty sure he can skip at least one or two classes and still pass, and he and Finn are going to go out for JV football. High school, Puck is pretty sure, will be better than middle school. 

He’s not wrong, either. By April of his freshman year, he and Finn are on the list for next year’s varsity squad, Santana’s let him feel her boobs under her shirt but over her bra, Puck is a regular at fight club, and he’s barely gone to his math class all year but he’s still passing. The only bad thing is that his spending money is basically gone, so on a nice warm April weekend, Puck goes down the road to Mrs. Blake’s. 

Mrs. Blake says she’d be happy to have him start cleaning the pool again, and that once summer comes, he should come early in the day, so there’s plenty of time. She even says she might have something else he can help her with once he finishes the pool. Mrs. Blake eyes his muscles as she says it, so Puck flexes his arms and grins. She probably needs some heavy stuff moved, and Puck figures that’s good for an extra ten or twenty dollars, if he’s lucky. 

Puck cleans the pool three times on Saturdays before school ends, and the next week he heads over on Tuesday. He tells Finn he won’t be able to hang out on Tuesdays or Thursdays, because he has Mrs. Blake’s pool on Tuesday and two of her friends’ pools on Thursdays, plus fight club on Tuesday night. 

“Puck?” Mrs. Blake says when Puck finishes with the pool. “Would you come inside for a minute?” 

“Sure,” Puck agrees, wiping his face off with his discarded t-shirt. Mrs. Blake probably needs a dresser moved or something. When he heads inside, though, she’s not standing in the kitchen, and Puck frowns. “Hello?”

“In the bedroom,” Mrs. Blake calls. “Just follow the sound of my voice.” 

Puck shrugs and heads down the hall. “What do you need me to mo—” he starts to ask, then freezes in the doorway. Mrs. Blake is naked, lying on the bed and smiling at him, and as much as Puck has been trying to get Santana’s shirt and bra off, he wasn’t really expecting Mrs. Blake to be undressed and beckoning to him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, dropping his eyes and imagining what his Nana Connie would say if she were still alive. 

“Nonsense. Come here. I told you there was something else you could help me with once the summer came,” Mrs. Blake says, and Puck steps forward even though he doesn’t really want to. 

When Puck stumbles out of Mrs. Blake’s house thirty minutes later with his wallet fatter than he planned, he can’t decide if he wants to puke, cry, or celebrate. He ends up puking in Mrs. Blake’s neighbors’ flowers that are bunched around their mailbox, and he’s crying silently by the time he passes Ryan’s house. 

“Ready for tonight?” Ryan calls, and Puck nods, hoping Ryan will leave him alone, but Ryan jogs out to the sidewalk. “What’s up, man? Weren’t you just at Mrs. Blake’s? I told her you were a big help, would do whatever she needed.”

“Mrs. Blake, she just…” Puck says, shaking his head. “I hadn’t ever done it before.” 

“And you’re _crying_?” Ryan asks incredulously. “Mrs. Blake is _hot_ for the over-thirty set! Way to go, stud!” He holds up his hand for Puck to high-five, and Puck reluctantly does it, wiping at his eyes. The correct answer, obviously, wasn’t puking _or_ crying, so Puck guesses he should be celebrating. “Don’t let me down, bro,” Ryan continues. “I got you a job, right, and good pay.” 

“You did?” Puck says, feeling confused. 

“Yeah, I talk to a lot of the ladies around here, and when she said she needed some help around the house last year, I told her, hey, you know, I bet I know someone.” Ryan smiles broadly at Puck. “ _And_ you get tail on the side!” 

“I guess,” Puck says. Obviously celebrating and thanking Ryan are the correct responses for some reason. 

Ryan keeps smiling and nodding. “Exactly. It’s a win for everyone.” 

By Thursday morning, he realizes that Mrs. Blake’s friends may be expecting the same kind of thing after their pool cleaning, and he thinks about not going to either house. Yeah, the sex was good, he guesses, though it was faster than he thought it would be, but he really hadn’t pictured having sex for the first time, or the second or third times, with women who look like his _mom_. He walks by Ryan’s house and says something about it to Ryan, which makes Ryan get mad about how ungrateful Puck is. Sex is good, Ryan argues, and money is good, and those are the two reasons why Puck should go to clean those pools, and be happy about it. Puck isn’t really all that happy about it, but he figures Ryan’s mostly right. The money is good, and he’s _supposed_ to want sex. 

By the time the summer’s halfway over, Ryan’s introduced him to two more housewives with pools, and Puck’s gotten really good at pretending like having so much sex with a bunch of cougars is exactly what he wants. Maybe Ryan’s right; it _is_ sex, and Mrs. Blake and her friends are hot for their age, or at least that’s what Ryan says. Ryan even shows Puck pictures of Mrs. Blake, back when she was at McKinley, and she doesn’t look _that_ different from Santana, Puck guesses. 

Three weeks before school starts back, Santana decides they can have sex. Puck would have been cheering really loudly back at the beginning of the summer, but Santana tells him on a Friday evening, after he’s had sex six times since Tuesday. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have sex, he tries to explain to Ryan at fight club the next week, it’s just he’s doing it so much and none of the housewives really give a fuck about him. They’re paying him extra for the pool cleaning, and that’s it, no real anything behind it as long as they get off thanks to Puck. 

Puck knows that’s not really what it is. He knows he makes all of the housewives feel hot, because he’s young and willing and gets a boner at almost anything. He’s popped boners in the locker room for football, staring at a Cheerio’s knees, walking down the hall at school, and sometimes when he stares at Finn while they’re eating pizza. They’re teenage boys. His dick doesn’t really discriminate, but the housewives either don’t realize that or like to pretend otherwise. He’s pretty sure he’s going to be relieved when the weather changes. 

He doesn’t say any of that to Ryan, because Ryan gets pissed about how Puck says he’s almost tired of having sex. Ryan yells about how Puck had better not be backing out, that Ryan knows everything Puck’s done so far that summer, and how there’s no reason to put an end to it now, now that he’s already been fucking all of the housewives regularly.

“I’m just _tired_ of it,” Puck repeats, and Ryan gets up in Puck’s face, grabbing him by the front of his t-shirt. 

“And what do you think happens to you if I tell _Mr._ Blake, or any of the other husbands, what you’ve been doing with their wives?” Ryan asks. “Fight club won’t help you that much then. Keep your mouth shut and do what they ask, and I’ll keep mine shut. Got it?” 

Puck nods, glaring at Ryan as Ryan walks away, and he can’t figure out why Ryan cares so much, unless Ryan’s not having any sex or something and wishes he were having sex with all of the housewives. Puck would let him, if that’s really what he wants, even if it meant less money, but Ryan doesn’t ask about it like that ever. 

When football practice starts, everyone starts swapping stories in the locker room, and Puck joins in, bragging about all the sex he’s had all summer. They ask him if it was with Santana, and Puck answers honestly that _some_ of it was.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Finn asks as the rest of the team jogs out of the locker room towards the field. He looks honestly hurt about it, even.

Puck frowns and looks around. “Yeah, that’s probably not a conversation to have around other people,” Puck says finally, feeling bad that Finn thinks he’s missed out on something great, or at least something better than it really is. 

“Oh, okay, I guess,” Finn says, still looking a little bummed. 

“We can walk over to get some pop after practice,” Puck says after a moment passes. “Tell you then?”

“Okay, sure,” Finn says. He shrugs half-heartedly, then nods once before trotting out onto the food.

Puck frowns to himself as he follows Finn over to Tanaka. Finn won’t buy Puck’s bullshit about how awesome it is, all the sex with the ‘cougars’, which is how Puck had figured he’d spin it for everyone else. He tries to figure out what _to_ tell Finn during practice, and he takes as long as he can in the shower, so that by the time he’s dressed, there’s only Finn and a couple of other people hanging around still. 

“Ready?” Puck says to Finn, heading towards the door. 

“Yeah, I’m ready if you are,” Finn says. 

Puck nods and pushes the door open, holding it for Finn without thinking much about it. He waits until they’re a block away from the field before he starts talking. “So remember how I told you I was cleaning pools for Mrs. Blake and some of her friends, and some people Ryan down the street knows?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “That’s why you were so busy all summer and we couldn’t really hang out.”

“Yeah.” Puck frowns. “So the first week of summer, Mrs. Blake says she’s got something else she needs help with, and could I come inside. And I figured, you know, she was rearranging furniture or maybe moving some stuff to the curb to donate, right? So I go in—and she’s lying on her bed naked.” Puck barely keeps his voice steady as he tells Finn about how Mrs. Blake told him what to do, laughing a little at how fast Puck came and making him keep going until she was done, and how he left feeling sick and crying. He stops before he can tell Finn about Ryan’s reaction, because he’s feeling like crying again. 

“Oh my god,” Finn says, almost whispering it. “Are you _okay_?”

“You’re not going to try to high-five me?” Puck asks, looking at Finn out of the corner of his eyes. 

“You puked in the flower bed. Why would I high five you?” Finn says.

Puck shrugs. “That’s what Ryan did. Said Mrs. Blake was hot. And, I mean…” Puck trails off. “I just thought it’d be different. Not women my mom’s age giving me extra for the pool cleaning.”

“ _Women_?” Finn asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “Puck, is there more than one of them?”

“All of ‘em. I guess that’s why Mrs. Blake told her friends about me?” Puck says, his voice cracking a little, which is almost as embarrassing as the puking and crying. “And I know that’s why Ryan told the people he knows to hire me.” 

“So that Ryan guy knows about all this and he didn’t stop it?” Finn demands. “He just—he just had you do it _more_?”

Puck shrugs. “Ryan said I was a stud. I think he wished it’d been him.” 

“That’s so messed up,” Finn says, shaking his head. “Do you _want_ to have sex with those women?”

“I mean, it’s sex, and that’s—we’re supposed to want to have sex, right?” Puck says, not really sure how to answer. “And I mean, I did kinda want to have sex with Santana, before the summer, and it was cool sleeping with her, but none of them seemed to care it was me?” Puck says, shrugging again. “I came, so I guess I can’t complain.”

Finn frowns. “Oh. So… you liked it?” 

“Dude, like you don’t pop a boner eight times a day and jerk off at least once?” Puck says, a little meaner than he intends. 

“Yeah? So?” 

“So you’d come too,” Puck says, frowning. 

“It sounds awful,” Finn says. “Why didn’t you just stop, though?”

“I was kind of complaining to Ryan one day, and he said he was going to tell Mr. Blake and all of the husbands if I didn’t keep doing it. I don’t know why he _cared_ so much, but I know some of them own guns, you know?” 

Finn nods. “But—but _shit_ , Puck! Ryan was, like, _forcing_ you?”

“I guess?” Puck says. “He wasn’t there but he seemed to always know about it.” 

“Did you tell anybody? Like your mom or something?”

“Why would Mom care?” Puck asks. “She’d probably ask why I was crying, too.” 

Finn face scrunches up like it does when he’s trying to think hard about something, and his frown deepens. Finally he just says, “I’m really sorry.”

Puck stops walking and stares at Finn, blinking a few times to try to keep the tears that welled up from falling. “You don’t think I should have been celebrating?”

“Dude, people’s moms are like, I dunno, _Pretty Woman_ ing you, and that Ryan guy was making you let them,” Finn says. “That’s not cool.”

Puck doesn’t know what to say about that, because he doesn’t really think it’s very cool, either, and that comparison means he can’t really pretend he’s just a well-paid pool cleaner, and without really deciding to, he starts crying in earnest, standing on the sidewalk with no one but Finn around. 

He can’t see Finn’s face through the tears, but he can barely make out Finn moving towards him, and then Finn’s arms are around him, pulling Puck against Finn’s chest and holding him there almost too firmly while Puck cries into Finn’s shirt and feels like the biggest loser in Lima with the best best friend. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Finn says. “You don’t have to clean any more pools.”

Puck guesses that ‘cleaning pools’ is their new code for ‘basically being a prostitute’, which is probably better than hearing it every time, at least. He keeps crying on Finn’s shirt and rubbing his snotty nose on Finn’s shoulder for at least five more minutes and then he looks up at Finn. “Okay,” he says softly. 

“You’re coming to my house for dinner,” Finn announces, not letting Puck go yet.

“I don’t think I want a pop right now after all,” Puck says, nodding a little at Finn about dinner. 

“I have some at my house, anyway,” Finn says. “Come on.” His arms fall away from Puck’s back, and he gives Puck a reassuring half-smile.

“Yeah. Okay,” Puck says, nodding a little again. “You think your mom would come pick us up?” Between practice and telling Finn and the crying, Puck isn’t sure how far he wants to walk. 

“Sure. I’ll call her,” Finn says. He digs around in his bag until he finds his phone, then he calls Carole, quickly telling her where they are. He drops the phone back into his bag and smiles at Puck again. “She’s coming. It’s totally fine.”

“Okay.” Puck sits down on the sidewalk, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I wasn’t supposed to be flattered? Or whatever? That’s what you think? It’s okay to be upset?”

“Yeah, that’s what I think,” Finn says firmly, sitting down next to Puck and draping one long, heavy arm over Puck’s shoulders. “I think that people with kids the same age as us shouldn’t be macking on you or anybody else our same age, and dudes who graduated from high schools years ago shouldn’t be trying to get high school kids to do stuff like that.”

“Everybody says I look older than a sophomore,” Puck says uncertainly. “I think that’s even why Santana dates me.”

“But they knew you were in high school, right?”

Puck nods. “Yeah. Ryan even introduced me that way. Mentioned the football team, that kind of thing.” 

“That’s messed up,” Finn says, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Puck says softly, and he knows it’s probably weird and a little gay, but he leans his head over on Finn’s shoulder and closes his eyes. 

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Finn says quietly, after they’ve been sitting there a few minutes. Puck nods slowly, his eyes still closed, and he waits until he hears Carole’s car approaching to respond, his voice quiet. 

“Thanks.” 

After they eat dinner, during which Finn keeps shooting him worried looks, Puck starts to sit down on Finn’s couch. Finn insists that Puck should go rest, though, and he even looks guilty when he says it, which probably means Finn’s planning on telling his mom everything that Puck told Finn that afternoon. Puck mentally shrugs and stays in Finn’s room for five or ten minutes, until he figures he’s missed the recounting of the details with Mrs. Blake, and then he quietly sits on the top stair, listening to Finn. 

“…and I think this Ryan guy, the douchey one, is like his _pimp_ or something!” Finn says, sounding upset, his voice higher-pitched and more cracked than usual. “Mom, he’s pimping Puck to old ladies!”

“Oh my god, poor Noah,” Carole says, sounding like she’s about to cry. “How could they do such a thing to a _child_?”

“I think I need to go over there and _punch_ Ryan,” Finn says. “Maybe I’ll bring a knife or something!”

“No, Finn!” Carole says, and it sounds like she stands up. “Finn, we have to let law enforcement handle Ryan and these… these _women_ ,” she adds, spitting the last word distastefully. 

“But if the cops do it, Ryan won’t get punched, and _Mom_ , he needs _punched_ ,” Finn insists. He sounds like he’s bordering on hysterics. “ _Mom_!”

“I think if he goes to jail for prostituting a minor, he’ll get punched,” Carole says grimly. “I’m just as angry as you are, Finn, believe me. Maybe more. Adults are supposed to protect children, not violate them.”

“Mom,” Finn says, his voice cracking even more. “Mom, he _cried_. He cried on me, and he says he threw up in the flower bed. I think somebody needs to go punch Ryan with a knife. To death. And probably Mrs. Blake, too. Maybe her first.”

Carole doesn’t say anything for awhile, and then Puck realizes she’s crying, which makes him feel like shit, for making Carole cry. He leans against the wall and feels angry with himself, a few more tears falling. 

“Mom, don’t cry,” Finn says. “Stop crying so you can call the cops.”

Carole sniffles loudly a few more times, but then Puck can hear her dialing the phone, and he stands up quietly, waiting to hear if Finn’s going to come back upstairs or just call him downstairs. While Carole talks in the background, Finn appears at the foot of the stairs, looking surprised to see Puck sitting there.

“Oh,” Finn says. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Puck says tiredly. 

“I’m sorry I told,” Finn says. “Except… except I _had_ to tell, so I guess I’m not sorry I told. I’m sorry I had to tell.”

“Yeah. I know.” Puck tries to smile, but he figures it’s probably closer to a grimace. “Do I need to come down yet?”

“I guess my mom’ll yell for us when we need to,” Finn says. “You want to go hang out in my room?”

“Yeah, that’s good,” Puck says, heading into Finn’s room and flopping down on Finn’s bed. “You really think they’ll, you know. Arrest them? And are they going to like… take me away?”

“What? Why? Why would they take you anywhere?” Finn asks. He sits down on the edge of the bed, kind of perched there.

“I took the money?” Puck says uncertainly. “And don’t they do that with kids? Take them away if they’ve been hurt or whatever.” ‘Whatever’ is easier to say than anything specific, but he knows Finn’ll understand. 

“Dude, you’re fifteen,” Finn says. “They aren’t gonna put you in jail or anything crazy.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Puck closes his eyes. “Everyone’s going to hear about it.”

“I won’t tell anybody. Well, other than my mom.”

“Yeah, but somebody’ll figure it out, or someone’s brother will be a clerk at the police department and see my name, or something,” Puck says. “I’m either going to be the whore that got mad or some kind of poor little, like… waif.”

“I’m sorry,” Finn says quietly. 

“It’s not your fault. Guess it’s my own fault.”

“It’s not your fault, either,” Finn says. “It’s on Ryan and those women. They shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Yeah.” Puck sits up abruptly. “Can I take a shower?”

“Sure. You can wear one of my shirts after, if you want.”

“Thanks,” Puck says, smiling a little, because he knows even Finn’s smallest t-shirt is going to be a little too big on him. He can’t really explain why he suddenly felt the need to shower, but he feels better by the time he gets out of the shower and pulls on his jeans and Finn’s t-shirt. He sits back down on Finn’s bed and sighs. 

“We’re going to have to go down and talk soon, aren’t we?” Puck asks. 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I think my mom called your mom.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess she would, wouldn’t she?” Puck says, running his hand over his mohawk. “Hopefully she’s not too pissed.” 

“She’d better not be pissed at you,” Finn says.

Puck shrugs, not sure what to say, when Carole calls up the stairs. “Boys? Please come down.” 

“Guess that’s our cue,” Puck says, but he doesn’t move at first. 

“Hey,” Finn says, gently nudging Puck. “C’mon. We’ll just do this and get it done, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says, and he sighs heavily before standing up and following Finn down the stairs. “Can we watch a movie afterwards?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Whichever one you want.”

“ _Return of the Jedi_ ,” Puck says, sitting down on the couch and looking out the window with a frown at the cars parked in front of Finn’s house, two different people looking very solemn as they walk towards Finn’s front door. 

“You always want _Return of the Jedi_ ,” Finn says.

“It’s the best,” Puck says unapologetically. “It’s the best movie of the best movie franchise.”

“Yeah, I know,” Finn says, even though Puck knows that Finn doesn’t actually agree about it being the best movie. 

Puck looks over his shoulder at the two people walking in, and he looks at Finn again. “You sure they’re not going to take me anywhere?” he whispers. “They look pretty pissed.”

“I wouldn’t let ‘em even if they tried,” Finn says. He takes one of Puck’s hands in his giant Finn-paw and holds it without looking at Puck. It’s more comforting than when Puck’s held hands with anyone else, except maybe Nana Connie when he was four. 

“Noah,” Carole says softly. “These gentlemen are here to interview you. Don’t worry about what you think the ‘right’ answers are, just tell the truth.” 

Puck nods, looking between the two men. “Yeah. Okay.” 

The men want a lot of details: names, addresses, dates, and even times, which Puck manages to give them, since he had to keep track of when he was supposed to be where. He doesn’t know first names for most of the women, and he doesn’t know all of their addresses, but he can draw maps to their houses. They ask for more detail than Puck really wants to provide, especially in front of Finn, even though Carole excuses herself to the kitchen part of the time.

They ask a lot of questions about Ryan, too, not just where he lived but the threats he made and the exact wording of the things Ryan said to Puck about the housewives. Puck answers their questions, though, either staring straight ahead or down at the carpet. They probably think he’s overreacting, too, but at least they can’t tell him that. Before they leave, they each give Puck a business card, and Puck stares at the cards in his hands for a long time, even after he hears them drive away. 

He flips them over and frowns. “Victims’ Counseling. I’m a ‘victim’.”

“Well, I mean, yeah,” Finn says. “‘Cause you’re not the one who did anything wrong.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Puck doesn’t move, his hand still in Finn’s. “Let’s watch that movie?”

“Sure,” Finn says, but he doesn’t move, either.

Puck loses track of how long they sit there, but eventually Carole comes in, and she doesn’t act like it’s been that long. “Finn, do you need anything?”

“Could you put in _Return of the Jedi_?” Finn asks. “And maybe some pop or a snack or something?”

“Sure,” Carole says, and after she puts in the movie and turns around, she looks at Puck’s hand swallowed by Finn’s and her eyes widen for a minute before she just goes back to looking sad. “I’ll make some popcorn and bring the pop in once it’s done.” 

Puck frowns a little as Carole goes back into the kitchen, and he looks at Finn. “I don’t have to go home, do I?”

“No, you can stay here as long as you need to,” Finn says.

“Okay.” Puck and Finn somehow manage to eat the popcorn and drink their pop without ever really moving the hands they have touching, and once the popcorn and pop are gone, Puck lets his head fall on Finn’s shoulder as the movie continues. Puck doesn’t move when the credits start rolling, and eventually it goes back to the menu. 

“Hey, you want to watch something else? Or did you want to go to bed?” Finn asks.

“Bed, I guess,” Puck says. “It’s probably late. It feels late.”

“Yeah, I dunno how late it is, but maybe,” Finn says. 

“We can sleep in or something,” Puck says, lifting his head up from Finn’s shoulder. “Eat cereal that turns the milk colors.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Finn says. “C’mon, we’ll go up to bed.” He stands, but doesn’t let go of Puck’s hand. Puck stands up, nodding a little as he does, and then follows Finn upstairs. He doesn’t move his hand from Finn’s until they’re in Finn’s room, door closed, and Puck decides to take his borrowed shirt off to sleep. 

“Oh, I guess it’s not that late,” Puck says with a frown at the clock. He pulls off the t-shirt and then his jeans, because it’s too hot to sleep in more than boxers, and then climbs into Finn’s bed. “Feels late, like I said.”

“Long day,” Finn says. He takes off his jeans, leaving on his t-shirt and boxers, and get in bed next to Puck. “Night.” He clicks the lamp off and tosses and turns some, ending up on his side facing Puck.

“Night,” Puck echoes, his eyes still open. “Um, you know, thanks.” He’s not really sure what exactly or what all he’s thanking Finn for, but he figures if anybody would get it, it’d be Finn. 

“Any time,” Finn says. 

“Hope not,” Puck says, not sure if he’s trying to be funny or not, and he slides his hand into Finn’s hand again. It’s probably dumb and a cliche, but he feels better touching Finn, like Finn’s the only thing that hasn’t changed, not just that day but the entire summer. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Finn whispers. “You can stay here however long you want.”

“Okay, but your mom’s probably going to get mad that you said I could move in,” Puck says, mostly kidding. 

“No she won’t. I promise.”

“We could, like, not tell her,” Puck says, yawning. “She’ll figure it out eventually. Probably the first time I run out of shampoo and put it on her list.”

“You can use mine.”

“Yeah, but I have special mohawk shampoo,” Puck says. “Being here for every breakfast might give it away, too.” 

“She’s gone to work before I’m up most of the time,” Finn says.

“Oh, maybe we’ll last awhile before she realizes, then,” Puck says, and then he yawns again. He closes his eyes and shuffles a little closer to Finn. “It’s safer here,” he whispers. 

“Yeah,” Finn says. He squeezes Puck’s hand and then lies there very still. Puck feels almost like he could cry again, but he’s already cried more than he did the entire years he was thirteen and fourteen, and he thinks maybe he doesn’t have any more tears left in him right then. He listens to the sound of Finn breathing steadily next to him and starts to fall asleep. 

Puck wakes up in the middle of the night, and the first thing he notices is Finn is still breathing steadily next to him. The second thing he notices is that ‘next to him’ is a lot closer than it was, because Finn’s arms are wrapped around him and Puck is being held against Finn’s chest. Puck squints as his eyes adjust to the darkness, trying to figure out why Finn’s holding him so protectively and then whether or not Puck cares that he is. 

“Finn?” Puck whispers. “Finn!” 

“What? Huh?” Finn’s head lifts off the pillow, his voice sleepy and confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Puck says, still whispering. “We’re just sort of… uh…” Puck trails off, not sure what to say. “Close?”

“But you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Puck says, dropping his head onto Finn’s upper arm, because he realizes it was actually a pretty good pillow. “You’re good?”

“Still gonna punch that Ryan guy with a knife,” Finn mutters, his head falling back against the pillow again. 

“Okay,” Puck whispers even more quietly, then closes his eyes again. The next time Puck wakes up, Finn’s room is sunny, and Finn is still wrapped around Puck. “Finn?” Puck says, wiggling a little, because he’s pretty sure that Finn’s holding him more tightly than before. 

“Hmm? You awake?” Finn mumbles. 

“Yeah. Your mom leave?”

“I think so.”

“You think those guys are going to call again today?” Puck asks. “Or make me go to the police department or something?”

“I don’t know,” Finn admits. “Mom made me stop watching _Law & Order_ because it gave me nightmares.”

Puck grins in spite of everything. “Nightmares from _Law & Order_?” he repeats. “That’s kind of sad. We should go eat cereal and watch _Empire Strikes Back_.”

“Then the first _Star Wars_ after,” Finn says. “I know how you roll.”

“But we’re not watching those prequels,” Puck warns. “JarJar is an abomination.”

“Dude, you know my mom garage saled those after I refused to watch them anymore,” Finn says.

“Good,” Puck says, wiggling again and grinning a little. “You gonna let me get up?”

“Oh, did you want to?” Finn’s arms suddenly feel like they get heavier. 

Puck sticks his tongue out at Finn and wiggles again. “Can’t get any cereal until you do.”

“I’m still so tired,” Finn says, ending with a fake yawn and getting even heavier. 

“Uh-huh,” Puck says doubtfully, grabbing Finn’s arms and pushing him over just a bit. “I think you’re trying to get me to go back to sleep so you can steal all of the Captain Crunch.”

“It’s Crunch Berries,” Finn says, rolling himself back in the other direction, then continuing to roll. 

“I knew it,” Puck says triumphantly, rolling with Finn for a few seconds before twisting and throwing the lower half of his body on top of Finn’s. “Trying to _hoard_ them.”

“They’re _my_ Crunch Berries!” Finn insists, flinging himself sideways and toppling Puck back to the bed. 

“I’m your _guest_ ,” Puck says. “‘You have to share, Finn Hudson’,” he adds, mimicking Carole. “Don’t you remember that?” He pushes up on Finn’s shoulders and rolls to the side, then flips himself halfway on top of Finn’s back. Finn pushes himself onto his elbow and then throws his weight, tipping Puck off his back. Once Puck is on the bed again, Finn rolls on top of him, pinning him down.

“I already shared my shirts and my bed,” Finn says. “You can’t have my Crunch Berries!”

“I’ll give you your shirt back!” Puck retorts, trying to wiggle out from under Finn. Finn drops even more of his weight onto Puck, shifting so one of his legs is braced against the bed and the other is between Puck’s legs. Puck pushes at Finn’s chest mostly ineffectually and tries to move again. Finn presses his leg up between Puck’s, leaning his weight forward, and then his eyes suddenly widen in what looks like horror.

“Oh. Oh shit, I’m sorry!” Finn says, flinging himself off Puck and to the side of the bed, then immediately standing. “Shit, Puck, I’m sorry!”

“Huh?” Puck says, feeling confused. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have held you down like that,” Finn says. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t trying to, like, _bad touch_ you!”

“Oh.” Puck frowns. “I’m not—it’s not—” He rolls over and then slowly sits up. “I’m not, I don’t know. Broken.”

“Yeah, no, I know that, I know,” Finn says.

“It’s fine. It’s okay,” Puck says, still frowning a little. “We do that sometimes.”

“But not like—” Finn cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Let’s go eat breakfast now, okay?”

“Okay,” Puck says, pulling on his jeans but leaving his chest bare. He keeps frowning as he goes down the stairs behind Finn, mouthing ‘Not like what?’ once before they reach the bottom and head into the kitchen. The clock in the kitchen says it’s closer to lunchtime than breakfast time, and Puck sits down at the table, frowning at the note on it. “Your mom left a note.”

“Oh, okay, thanks,” Finn says. He picks up the note and reads it. “We’re not supposed to buy any movies on the cable, she washed our practice stuff, and she says maybe the detective might call to talk to you.”

“Why would we buy movies on the cable? You have the Star Wars DVDs.”

“Yeah, I dunno,” Finn says. He crumples up the note and throws it towards the trash without looking. It hits the edge of the can and falls onto the floor. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t go out for basketball,” Puck says, pouring some cereal into his bowl. 

“Yeah, maybe I should…” Finn trails off. He gets the milk out of the fridge and puts it on the table in front of Puck. “Just don’t eat all my Crunch Berries.”

“You keep not finishing your sentences,” Puck says, picking up the milk and adding some to his cereal.

“Sorry,” Finn says.

“Is that how it’s going to be now?” Puck asks. “Apologizing and not finishing your sentences. Cause, dude. I’m still Puck.”

“I know that, okay?” Finn says. “I know that.”

“Just checking.” Puck starts eating his cereal, staring mostly at the bowl and the table. 

“It’s just…”

Puck lets his spoon drop into the bowl and he looks up at Finn. “Just what?”

“I should’ve known. I feel like I should’ve known something wasn’t right,” Finn says. “But I was just too busy being pi—” He cuts himself off again and sighs. “I guess I wasn’t looking at the right things.”

“Being pissed?” Puck guesses. “About me being busy?”

“Maybe,” Finn says.

Puck picks up his spoon again and shrugs. “You could at least, I don’t know. Tell the truth or finish your sentences or something.” 

“Fine. Pissed about you and Santana,” Finn says, not looking at Puck.

“Huh?” Puck says. “Did you want to go out with her or something? You never said anything.”

“What? No!” Finn says. “It’s just, I thought you were, you know, hooking up with her all summer or something, and it just pissed me off, you always being busy, always being with her.”

“Oh. Huh.” Puck eats some more of his cereal, thinking. “Huh,” he repeats again, not really sure what he’s thinking. 

“Well, and now I know what was really going on, and I feel like a total jackass,” Finn says. 

“So let me have all the rest of your Crunch Berries and we’ll call it even,” Puck suggests. 

“Fine. Yeah. You can have them,” Finn says, still not meeting Puck’s eyes. 

“You have to finish your sentences again, or I get the next box too,” Puck threatens. 

Finn nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Can we go watch _Empire_ now so we finish it before the detectives bother me?” Puck asks. 

“Yeah, sure,” Finn says. “I’ll get it set up.”

Puck puts his spoon down and stands up quietly as Finn heads towards the DVD player, and then he tackles Finn from behind, wrestling them heavily onto the couch. “And let me win this time.”

Finn goes complete rigid, not fighting back or moving at all. Puck huffs and grabs Finn’s arm, poking him in the side where he knows Finn is ticklish. Finn twists away as much of his body as he can without really moving the rest of it.

“ _With_ fighting back, asshole,” Puck says. 

“I don’t wanna fight back,” Finn says. 

Puck rolls off Finn and the couch, sitting in the floor with his back against the couch. “Dammit, Finn.” 

“I’m sorry,” Finn says, sounding like he’s starting to get angry. “I’m sorry, okay? I just can’t.”

“Because… I’m gross now?” Puck asks. “Is that it?”

“No!” Finn says. “It’s because I’m like the shittiest human being ever.”

“We fixed that. You gave me the Berries.” 

“No, that _doesn’t_ fix it!” Finn says.

“It fixes it for me!” Puck says. “C’mon, what is it really?”

“Because I forgot, okay?” Finn blurts out. “Because I woke up this morning and I forgot what happened and why you were here, and I was just—I spent the whole summer being jealous, thinking you were getting it on with Santana, when really you were being, like, molested by these horrible people, and then I just roll right on top of you and pretty much do the same thing to you!”

Puck’s pretty sure his mouth is hanging open, but Finn’s not looking at him, so he lets it hang open while he goes back over everything Finn just said. “Okay, first of all, I’m fucking glad you forgot, okay? I don’t want that to be the first thing you think of. Second… jealous of who? And third or fourth or whatever, how the fuck was what we were _both_ doing this morning anything like the other stuff?”

“Because I want it and you didn’t,” Finn says. “I wanted it to be like—I liked being on you like that, and I wanted to keep doing it, but that’s not what you want, and I’m just the worst person ever, like just the shittiest friend ever.” He puts his face in his hands. “I wasn’t ever gonna tell you any of this, I swear.”

“Oh.” Puck makes a face and glances at Finn for a few moments before looking down at the carpet. “So you were jealous of Santana? Or, like, the Santana you had in your head?”

Finn nods, his face still covered. “I’m so stupid. I wasn’t ever gonna tell you. You weren’t ever gonna have to know.”

“Are you… like, gay? Or bi?” Puck asks curiously. 

“I don’t know! Please just don’t hate me,” Finn says, sounding miserable. “I’m messing this all up so bad.”

“Well, okay, but you’re not straight. Okay.” Puck shrugs. “Cool.” 

“No, it’s not cool. I suck so bad. I’m making all of this about me, and it’s not, and I suck so bad for telling you all of this right now,” Finn says. 

“Dude, I’m fucking _glad_ to think about something else,” Puck says. “I had no idea, though.”

“I’m so sorry,” Finn croaks from behind his hands. 

“Why?” Puck asks. “Did you think I was going to start throwing you in the dumpster or something?”

“I thought if I didn’t tell you, it would go away,” Finn says. “It would go away and I wouldn’t feel like that.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Puck says. “I mean, maybe it’d be some other dude instead. I don’t think I’d be the only dude ever, though.” 

“I dunno. You’re the only one so far,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, we’re fifteen,” Puck says. “How many girls?”

Finn shrugs. “I dunno.”

Puck shrugs too. “Okay. And then, I don’t know. You gotta stop making assumptions.”

“I didn’t want you to hate me,” Finn says. “Or stop being my friend. Or… or anything. I just—I can’t help. I didn’t want to, but I just do.”

“No, I mean… you didn’t ask if I wanted it or not.”

“You don’t. You don’t want it.”

“Yeah, you seem pretty sure you know what I do or don’t want for someone who’s never asked me about it,” Puck says. “Do you think I wouldn’t have made you stop if I was upset?”

“No, I think you might have, like, _trauma gay_ or something,” Finn says. “Like, you know, women hurt you and I’m safe, right? You said it was safe here. And I almost took advantage of that!”

“Dude.” Puck laughs a little. “I meant I felt better out of my _neighborhood_. None of them are living around the corner and Ryan’s not down the street.” 

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Finn says. 

“Maybe you need that counseling shit too,” Puck says. “I need you to not be afraid to touch me, dude.” 

“I am, though,” Finn says softly. “I am.”

Puck sighs and leans his head back against the couch. “Fuck. Okay. Fuck. You were holding my hand last night. And we slept in the same bed. So that’s not okay anymore?”

“Now you _know_ ,” Finn says, sounding even more miserable. “You know I love you. And—and somebody _hurt_ you, and I just want to punch them all in the face with a knife, but my mom won’t let me, and now you _know_ , and now it’s all messed up.”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to say no on the knife-punches, too,” Puck says. “They _would_ arrest you for that. I’m not worth you going to jail.”

“You are to me. I’d go to jail for that,” Finn insists. 

“Let the cops arrest them or whatever,” Puck says. “I need you here more than in jail.”

“I’m so sorry,” Finn says. “I’m so sorry, Puck. I tried not to feel like that about you, but it’s _you_.”

“I don’t even know what you’re apologizing for now,” Puck admits. “Look, this summer… it sucked, okay? But that’s over. And now I need you.”

“I want to be here for you. I do. I just don’t want it to be all complicated and confused and—”

Puck huffs and leans over to Finn, kissing him hard. Whatever else they asked for, the only other people Puck’s kissed besides Finn are Santana and some girl at a party in seventh grade during a game of spin the bottle. Puck puts his hand on the back of Finn’s neck and keeps kissing him, not letting Finn pull away. 

“I don’t have any kissing-related trauma,” Puck says firmly. 

“That was the first time I kissed anybody,” Finn says. “Or, anybody kissed me, I guess.”

“Yeah?” Puck says. “I thought you were at that party in seventh grade, too.”

“Closed lips. It lasted like half a second. Her lips were really sticky. I think she had lipgloss on.”

“Oh,” Puck says, shrugging, and since post-kiss Finn is a lot calmer than before-kiss Finn, he kisses him again, holding Finn’s shoulders against the couch. Finn kisses back this time, opening his mouth a little. Puck would grin if he weren’t mid-kiss, and he slips his tongue into Finn’s mouth, forcing Finn’s mouth to open wider as they keep kissing. Puck hadn’t thought about kissing a boy before, but it’s a good kiss, and he can feel Finn sighing against him. 

Puck pulls away slowly, kissing Finn’s lips almost teasingly a few times before grinning at Finn. “Good?”

Finn nods slowly, eyes wide and lips still slightly parted. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Really, really good.”

“You want to kiss more, or watch a movie?” Puck asks. 

“Do _you_ wanna kiss more?”

“You said it this morning. You know how I roll. Do I offer anything I don’t want to do?” Puck says. 

“Then I wanna kiss all day,” Finn says.

Puck laughs and starts kissing Finn again, running his hands up from Finn’s shoulders to Finn’s cheeks and into his hair. It’s a little weird, because Puck had at least gotten used to kissing Santana, and Finn has a little bit of stubble instead of smooth cheeks, and short, familiar hair instead of Santana’s long hair, but Puck’s not sure any of it is really about kissing a girl versus a boy, just about kissing two different people. He hadn’t thought about being bi, either, but kissing Finn is just as awesome as kissing Santana, and actually, Puck decides about a minute and a half into his third kiss with Finn, a lot better than kissing Santana, maybe because he actually likes Finn as a person a hell of a lot more. 

He shifts his position, letting more of his weight rest on Finn, and he realizes that Finn might be onto something, but not the way that Finn thought he was. Puck tries to stop kissing Finn, at least for a few moments, but he keeps telling himself just a little more, and it finally is his lungs that convince him to pull back a little. 

“Maybe you were like almost right but not really about the effect,” Puck admits. 

“Huh?” Finn asks, breathing heavily.

“I don’t think I want to get naked anytime soon,” Puck says. “Not like… all the way.” 

“Oh. Okay. That’s okay,” Finn says. “If you don’t want to, we won’t.”

“Maybe don’t lie naked on things either.”

“Okay. I won’t do that.”

“It’s probably not a great idea anyway,” Puck jokes. “You’re probably not missing out on much.” 

“Okay,” Finn says, still wide-eyed and nodding. 

“I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.” Puck pauses, trying not to laugh, and then does. Finn’s face turns a little red, but then he starts laughing, too.

“Cool,” Finn says. “So…”

“So you want me to go back to kissing you?”

“If you want to, then yeah,” Finn says.

Puck laughs again, leaning down and putting his mouth back on Finn’s. Finn kisses back eagerly, his mouth opening and his tongue pushing against Puck’s lips this time. Puck opens his lips, one hand on Finn’s shoulder and the other on Finn’s cheek, tilting Finn’s head slightly up and towards Puck. One of Finn’s hands presses against Puck’s chest, Finn’s other arm wrapping loosely around Puck’s back. Puck leans a little lower, the hand on Finn’s cheek sliding into Finn’s hair. 

“Yeah, I want to,” Puck says. “We should keep kissing as long as we can.” 

“Yeah, that’s good,” Finn says, immediately putting his mouth back on Puck’s. Puck laughs into the kiss, but they keep kissing, hands on each other, for long enough that he hears their stomachs growling. What finally makes Puck pull away and sit up is the doorbell, and he runs his hand over his mohawk. 

“Well, damn,” he says, looking at the door. 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “You, uh. You should go get a shirt, I guess. I’ll answer the door.”

“Okay, yeah,” Puck says, and he starts to lean in to kiss Finn again before he realizes that would probably be counterproductive in terms of getting the door and a shirt. He heads upstairs, and he’s standing in Finn’s room looking for his clean t-shirt from practice the day before when he hears the doorbell ring again, followed by Finn calling out that it’ll just be another minute. Puck looks down the stairs confused, because he knows Finn wasn’t _that_ far from the door. Puck gives up on the clean t-shirt and pulls out one of Finn’s instead, pulling it over his head before going back downstairs, where the same two gentlemen from the night before are sitting in the living room, and Puck sits next to Finn on the couch, Finn’s hand covering his almost immediately. Puck grins at him, then turns towards the two men and sighs. “You have more questions for me?”

“No, not an interview,” one of the men says, who then launches into an explanation of how things will proceed from there, at least in terms of what Puck has to deal with. They talk about if Puck will have to testify or not, how a trial would work if he did, and that in theory his name shouldn’t be released. The last thing they mention is that there _will_ be news coverage, so Puck shouldn’t be surprised. They give him more cards with more therapists listed, in case he needs to find a good fit or something like that, and then stand up and shake hands with Puck and Finn before leaving. 

“I know they told me that about the news so I could avoid it, but now I feel like I have to see it,” Puck admits after they leave. 

"I'll watch it with you," Finn says. "Or I'll watch it first."

“I didn’t even know it was illegal,” Puck says quietly. “It’s not like it’s something they teach us in school.” 

"I knew grown-ups weren't supposed to have sex with teenagers," Finn says. 

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of stuff adults aren’t supposed to do that they don’t get arrested for, either,” Puck says. “I guess I figured it was something like that. One of those things people just don’t talk about.” 

"I think that Ryan guy is gonna get in a lot of trouble, too," Finn says, his face twisting into an angry scowl.

“Yeah. I didn’t even tell them about the fight club, either,” Puck says. He leans his head on Finn’s shoulder again. “I mean it, I think I’m safer not near home.”

"And _I_ mean it," Finn says. "Stay here as long as you need. No pressure, and I'll only kiss you when you for sure really want me to."

“Now’s good,” Puck says.

"Cool," Finn says, putting his arms around Puck. Before he presses his lips to Puck's, though, he says, "Just so you know, I love you, okay? You don't have to say it back or mean it the same way. I just wanted you to know it."

“Okay,” Puck says softly, then he grins. “I know.” 

"Cool," Finn says again, touching his lips to Puck's, letting the kiss slowly deepen from a light pressure to both of them kissing each other like they're going to drown if they don't kiss hard enough. Finn's hands rest lightly on Puck's back, occasionally moving up or down.

Puck keeps one hand on Finn’s cheek, occasionally nudging Finn’s head in one direction or another as they kiss, and his other hand moving along Finn’s shoulders and into his hair. He eventually backs up just enough that he can lean on the wall as they keep kissing, and Puck laughs as a stray thought passes through his brain. 

“Remember what I said earlier?” he asks Finn. “That you weren’t straight? I think we can say that about both of us.”

"Not just because of trauma?" Finn asks.

“You’re only the third person I’ve kissed,” Puck says. “I don’t think they get everything.”

"Okay," Finn says. "Just… you don't have to want me just 'cause I want you, okay?"

“You’re my best friend, not a pity project,” Puck says, shaking his head. “I told you, I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.” 

"Good. So we can kiss some more?"

“Yeah, we can kiss more,” Puck agrees, putting his lips to Finn as he finishes the sentence. He keeps leaning against the wall, kissing Finn slowly and deeply without anyone or anything disturbing them. 

After a long while, Finn pulls away, panting and red-faced. "I need to, uh. Stop. For a little while."

Puck opens his mouth, then closes it and looks down for a second. “Okay. We can, uh. Eat some lunch. Or I guess it’s closer to like, lunch-dinner now.” 

"Yeah, okay. Cool. I just—I didn't want—" Finn breaks off, his cheeks even redder.

“Okay,” Puck repeats, grinning a little at how red Finn is, and he slides his hand into Finn’s before walking towards the kitchen. “So… are we telling your mom about this?”

"I dunno," Finn says. He frowns and doesn't say anything else right away, not until they're in the kitchen, Puck leaning against the counter as Finn opens the fridge. "I don't want to lie. I wanna tell everybody. I don't want that to be in the way, though. I don't want it to cause problems in the trial or anything."

“We could tell your mom like… in a few days?” Puck suggests. “And then see what she says we should do about the trial.” 

"Okay," Finn says. "We can do it however you want."

“We should probably have answers to the questions she’s going to ask, though,” Puck points out. “Grab me a pop?"

Finn hands a cold can of Pepsi to Puck. "What kind of questions?”

“Thanks.” Puck opens the can and takes a long drink before answering. “She’s going to ask if you’re gay, if I’m gay, why now, are we coming out at school, who knows what else.”

“I don’t know the answers to any of those!”

“But we have a few days to figure out how we’re going to answer her, is what I’m saying,” Puck says. 

“Don’t you already have enough questions you have to answer?” Finn asks. “You don’t really need more, do you?”

Puck shrugs. “Doesn’t mean she might not ask them. I figured if she asked ‘why now’ we could just tell her why not and move on.”

“Okay,” Finn says. “But maybe—”

“Nope, you have to finish sentences,” Puck says. 

“Maybe this is a bad time for this,” Finn says. “Maybe now’s not a good time for _you_ to have to figure out answers and stuff.”

“Or we can just wait even longer to tell her. I don’t know.” Puck shrugs. 

“Should we even be doing this right now?” Finn asks.

Puck shrugs again. “I don’t know, they forgot to give me the victim manual.” He finishes the pop and crushes the can. “I don’t think they’d tell me to break up with a girlfriend or anything. Though I guess I should tell Santana to take a hike. Not like it was exclusive really.”

Finn looks away from Puck, so only his profile is visible. “Is this?” he asks quietly.

“I kind of assumed that was what you wanted,” Puck says. “You and Santana have pretty much nothing in common.”

“What do _you_ want, though?”

“Don’t make me get deep,” Puck jokes, but he does sigh a little. “I want to stay here, I want to go back to kissing instead of having deep life questions, I want you happy.” 

“I’m only gonna be happy if I know this is for sure what you want,” Finn says. “I think enough people have done stuff without caring what you wanted. I’m not gonna be that guy.”

“Dude, I don’t think you know how to be that guy,” Puck points out. “I don’t know what all this means, okay? I know that you’re my best friend, and I know I like kissing you, and… can’t that be enough? Just you and me and a lot of making out and holding hands and shit, and we worry about what I am later and what to do at school later? Because that’s what I’d tell your mom.” 

Finn nods. “Okay. If that’s enough for you, it’s enough for me.” He gives Puck a big smile. “It was kind of enough for me at the ‘you and me’ part.”

“Really? You were going to stop before the making out part?” Puck asks. 

“The making out part’s awesome, but if all I got was you and me, I’d still be happy,” Finn says, shrugging. “Maybe the holding hands part, too.”

“The making out part _is_ awesome,” Puck says. “We should go upstairs and do more of that part. Since your mom will be home pretty soon.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Finn says. He stands up and holds his hand out for Puck. Puck takes his hand and grins at him. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Puck says, feeling optimistic. They probably won’t figure it out right away or without some messiness, but it can’t be that hard to tell people to fuck off, Puck figures. 

The two of them do make out in Finn’s room until Carole gets home. Actually, Puck’s not sure when Carole gets there, just when she calls the two of them down for dinner, which ends up being pizza, so Puck figures maybe Carole was home for awhile and leaving them alone. After they finish eating, Puck gives the tv an uneasy glance. 

“I should know what they’re saying,” he says quietly to Finn. 

“I can watch it for you,” Finn says. “I can just tell you what it says. Maybe it doesn’t even say anything.”

“While I hang out in your room wondering what they’re saying?” Puck says, making a face. “It’s just like a band-aid or something. Rip it off all at once.” 

“Okay. We’ll go do that,” Finn says. He takes Puck’s hand, and then hands Puck the remote with the other hand. Puck flips on the tv and changes the channels, setting the remote down and leaning against Finn. 

Carole doesn’t say anything, but after she’s done doing whatever she’s doing in the kitchen, she comes and sits down in front of the tv, too, and Puck waits for the news people to get past all the national and world news. 

“And now in local news, the Lima Police Department has busted a child prostitution ring. Taken into custody today were the organizer and several clients. Pictured here is Ryan McMurphies, twenty-two, who is the alleged local procurer, possibly with ties to a larger ring with operations in other areas.” 

“Huh?” Puck says. “One person’s not a _ring_.”

Carole looks at Puck sadly. “You might not have been the only one, Noah.” 

“You should’ve let me punch that guy with a knife, Mom,” Finn says.

“He’s not worth jail,” Puck says before Carole says anything, and he listens to the rest of the news story before shaking his head. “They didn’t even mention ages or anything.” 

“They didn’t say anybody’s name besides knife-face-punch-guy, either,” Finn says.

“I thought he was twenty. He’s always saying how he graduated from McKinley two years ago,” Puck says with a frown. “Why did they mention his name and not, like, Mrs. Blake?”

“If there were more kids, they’re more concerned about the people who organized things,” Carole says. “I’m glad they didn’t mention ages or numbers, though.” 

“Yeah, but he didn’t _do_ anything like they did,” Puck says, tensing a little. Finn puts his arm around Puck and pulls him into a big, tight bearhug. Puck closes his eyes and sits there in Finn’s arms while the news starts talking about which restaurants failed their inspections in the last month. 

Puck can hear Carole stand up, and then the tv goes off. “That’s enough for now. Noah, I do need to talk to you about a few things. Is it okay if Finn hears them?”

“Huh?” Puck opens his eyes and looks confusedly at Carole. “Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I just wanted to check. Do you want to talk in here or at the table?”

“Here’s fine.” Puck nudges Finn’s arm. “I should probably sit up,” he whispers to Finn. Finn releases Puck, but immediately takes his hand again. Puck tries to grin at Finn briefly, but it probably fails a little. 

“There are two main things,” Carole says, looking almost embarrassed. “First of all, the police asked that I pass on to you that you should probably have a full test panel for STIs.” 

Puck stares at Carole blankly for a minute before he cringes. “Oh. Yeah. They, uh. Weren’t big fans of… yeah.” Puck grimaces, and Finn’s arm goes around Puck’s shoulders and reels him back in again, which is when Puck realizes that he’s pulled away from Finn a little. 

“We’ll get that taken care of tomorrow or Monday,” Carole says to Puck. “The other issue is your mother. I talked to her last night and again today, and—”

“She wasn’t exactly sympathetic?” Puck guesses, before Carole can fill in the blanks. “I figured.” 

“I suppose that’s one way to put it, yes,” Carole says. “I can spare you the exact language if you’d rather.” 

“So can I just stay here?” Puck asks. “I don’t like seeing them around the neighborhood already, and now they’ll be pissed, and if my mom’s pissed, none of that sounds like any fun.”

“Of course you can stay here!” Finn insists. “Right, Mom?”

“Noah can certainly stay here for the time being, yes, and then we’ll evaluate long-term in a few more weeks, okay?” Carole says. 

“She doesn’t really want me back, does she,” Puck says flatly. “Is she embarrassed because of what happened, or because I didn’t keep quiet and say it was all fine?” 

“She’s stupid. He can stay as long as he needs to,” Finn says to Carole.

“I promise I’ll make sure you have a place to live, Noah,” Carole says, and she gives Finn some kind of look that Puck can’t really decipher. 

“Is that it? Tests and my mom?” Puck asks. 

“For today, yes. Do you have a preference about when to take care of the first thing?”

Puck shrugs. “I guess we should go to football practice tomorrow afternoon. Good thing today was Thursday, ‘cause I didn’t think about it anyway.” 

“It might be simplest to go to the health department in the morning,” Carole says. “As far as football practice, I’m sure your coach would understand if you needed to miss one or two practices.” 

Puck shakes his head quickly. “Can’t act like anything’s up. Don’t you think?” he asks Finn. 

“It’s probably better to act like everything’s normal,” Finn agrees. 

“I can drop you off at the health department in the morning, then,” Carole says. “The two of you could get lunch and then walk the few blocks to school.” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Puck says. 

“I bought some ice cream on the way home,” Carole says as she stands. “I’ll go get it.” 

“What flavor?” Finn asks. 

“One rocky road, one mint chocolate chip, and one cookies and cream,” Carole calls from the kitchen.

“Everybody’s favorites,” Puck says quietly, almost to himself. He leans over against Finn again, Finn’s arm still around his shoulders. 

“See? You’ve even got your own ice cream here,” Finn says. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Puck laughs, listening to the sound of Carole dishing out ice cream. “We going to watch a movie or go upstairs?”

“We should go upstairs,” Finn says. “Unless you wanted to start _Star Wars_ all over again, and do beginning to end this time.”

“Nah,” Puck says, shaking his head. “Upstairs is better.” He grins at Finn as he says it, and Finn grins back. They’re still grinning at each other when Carole comes back into the room, handing each of them a bowl of ice cream. She gives Finn an odd look, then shrugs and goes back into the kitchen. Puck has to move his hand away from Finn so he can hold the ice cream and eat it, but he leaves his head tilted slightly towards Finn as he eats. 

When Puck finishes, he puts his bowl down and looks at Finn. 

“You ready to go up?” Finn asks. 

“Yeah,” Puck says, nodding a little. “You gonna tell your mom?” 

“Not tonight,” Finn says. “I think there’s enough stuff already happened today.”

Puck laughs. “I just meant that we were going to, I don’t know. Bed. So she wouldn’t come in.” 

“Oh. Yeah, okay, I’ll go do that,” Finn says. “Meet you upstairs.”

“Okay.” Puck heads upstairs, taking off his borrowed t-shirt and then lying down on Finn’s bed. He actually thinks he’d have an answer if someone asked if he was gay; he’d just tell them that he’s bi, which seems like it must be the truth. Puck shrugs a little, then rolls onto his side and props his head on his arm, waiting for Finn to come up the stairs. 

Finn takes longer to come up than Puck expected, and when he finally does come in, he has a weird, almost panicky-looking expression. “Uh, so…” Finn begins.

“What?” Puck asks. “Your mom had to know it was possible we’d finish off the cereal.”

“Well, she knows _something_ , but it’s not cereal-related.”

“What does she know?” Puck asks suspiciously. 

“She gave me the mom-stare!” Finn says. “It just slipped out!”

“What did you say?” 

“Uh.” Finn shifts from foot to foot. “I might’ve told her that I think I’m maybe, like, more or less gay, and that also I’m kinda in love with you and we kissed.”

“So pretty much everything?” Puck says, trying not to grin. “That’s a lot to slip out.” 

“Once I started I kinda wasn’t sure where to stop, so I just kept going.”

“Well, she didn’t stop you coming up here or follow you or call us downstairs for a talk,” Puck says. “So I guess that’s okay.”

“Yeah, she just said ‘Oh Finn, really?’ and ‘Don’t you hurt that boy, Finn Hudson!’ and then she hugged me,” Finn says.

“Cool,” Puck says with a little shrug. “So we can make out more now?”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty awesome to me,” Finn says. He lies down on the bed next to Puck, facing him. Puck grins and moves closer to Finn, putting his hand on Finn’s cheek. 

“Yeah, so you should show me, then.”

“Yeah, I should,” Finn says, then he leans in to kiss Puck gently, their lips just touching. 

“That’s weak,” Puck whispers. “Not that awesome?”

“I’m getting warmed up!” Finn says. He kisses Puck again, harder this time, his mouth opening against Puck’s. 

Puck laughs against Finn’s mouth, putting his other hand on Finn’s back and then letting himself roll back, landing on his back and pulling Finn with him. Finn rolls on top of Puck, but immediately props his weight up on his hands and knees, so he’s still kissing Puck, but their bodies aren’t pressed together.

“That’s good,” Puck says, moving his mouth and kissing the corner of Finn’s mouth experimentally. “There’s got to be a lot of different kissing-things.” He kisses the corner of Finn’s mouth again and grins. Finn responds with a half-smile and a kiss on Puck’s cheek, close to his jawline. Puck grins wider and runs his tongue up Finn’s cheek, kissing his temple. Finn laughs and ducks his head a little, kissing the side of Puck’s neck.

Puck smirks and does it again. “Does it tickle?” he asks. 

“A little. Good tickle, though.”

“Yeah?” Puck sucks the bottom of Finn’s ear into his mouth and then releases it with another grin. “I like it when I feel you breathing. Like right now, where your mouth is on my neck.”

“Yeah?” Finn asks, his voice breathy. “I like the ear thing.”

“This?” Puck tugs on Finn’s earlobe, pulling on it and trying to tickle it with his tongue for a moment. “Like that?”

Finn lets out a groan. “Yeah. Like that. You can do that.”

“Just can?” Puck asks, grinning to himself. “You don’t _want_ me to?”

“I do, I do want you to,” Finn says. “But only if you want to. Only do stuff you want.”

“Dude.” Puck moves his head enough to look at Finn’s face. “I swear to Jewish God I’ll tell you if I don’t want to do something. Okay?” 

Finn pauses for a second before he nods. “Okay,” he says.

“Good.” Puck puts his lips back on Finn’s earlobe, and after he’s slid his tongue over it twice, he barely bites at it with his front teeth, feeling absurdly like a kitten or puppy or something. Finn groans again, louder this time, and a little of his weight drops, more of his body pressing against Puck’s. Puck feels like laughing again, but instead he bites, just a little harder, and then licks up the outside of Finn’s ear. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t keep doing that,” Finn says. 

“Maybe I should,” Puck says. “I’m not going to flip out if you come, you know.” 

“Yeah, well, _I_ might,” Finn counters, pushing himself up on his elbows again. “I might flip out.”

“Okay. But it’s cool with me, if you want to,” Puck says. “I’d still keep making out with you after.” 

“I don’t want to,” Finn says. “I mean, I _do_ want to, but—” He interrupts himself by kissing Puck again, his tongue sliding along Puck’s. Puck knows it’s kind of a distraction technique or whatever, but it’s a really awesome one, so he kisses back, opening his mouth wider and running his hand through Finn’s hair and resting it on Finn’s neck. 

Eventually Puck decides he should at least point out to Finn he realizes it was a distraction technique, and he pulls back, kissing Finn’s cheek as he does. “I know what you did there. But what?”

“But I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready to do,” Finn says. 

“This is kind of already better than all of that shit,” Puck admits. “Just the making out, I mean. Okay?”

Finn nods. “Yeah. I just… I don’t wanna come or anything if you’re not ready to let me do the same for you, is all.”

Puck shrugs. “If you’re sure. I don’t care. I mean, I do care, but I don’t care.” He grins. “Make sense?”

“Yeah, it does, but _I_ care,” Finn says. “I care a lot.”

“Okay.” Puck pushes gently on the back of Finn’s neck with his hand, lifting his own head up and kissing Finn again. They make out for about five minutes before Finn makes this whine-groan noise and pulls away, lifting his body away from Puck’s and breathing so heavily he’s almost panting. After a minute or two, Finn’s breathing is slower, and he puts his lips to Puck’s again, letting his weight rest on Puck more. Another five minutes of kissing pass, though, and Finn breaks away again with the same whine-groan-pant combo, only to calm down after a couple of minutes and return to making out. 

By the third time that Finn shoves himself up off Puck, Puck shakes his head at Finn’s red face. “Go take a shower?” Puck suggests.

“Yeah,” Finn says, through heavy breaths. “Maybe a cold shower’s a good idea.”

“I was thinking less cold, more jerking off,” Puck says. 

“Oh,” Finn says, his face even redder. “You sure that’s not weird?”

“I have no idea if it’s weird,” Puck admits. “But I think you should go do that anyway, and I’ll sit in here and check Facebook or something.”

Finn frowns, but he nods his head. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“Well, not if you’re going to go in there and think about, I don’t know, Brad Pitt or something.”

“No, I won’t do that,” Finn says. He sits up and sighs. “Okay, I’ll, uh, be right back, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, sitting up and perching on the edge of the bed as Finn leaves the room. He’s _pretty_ sure he’s not going to flip out, especially since Finn’s his age and a dude, but since he’s not one hundred percent sure, it probably is better not to accidentally flip out and freak himself and Finn both out at the same time. Puck runs his hands over his head and his mohawk, listening to the sound of the shower running, and after a few minutes, he flips on the lamp beside the bed, turning off the rest of the lights before taking his jeans off and crawling under Finn’s sheets. 

After five or six minutes, Puck can hear Finn coming back from the bathroom, and he props himself up on his arms enough to see the door. Finn comes into the room in pajamas, his hair still wet and dripping. He gives Puck the half-grin.

“Hey,” Finn says. 

“You going to shake dry?” Puck asks with his own grin. 

“Oh. Sorry,” Finn says. “Guess I forgot to dry my hair.”

“Nah, I like it. It’s cute,” Puck says, still grinning. 

Finn’s cheeks get a little pink. “It’s not cute.”

“Don’t I get to decide what I think is cute?” Puck asks. “I’ll let you decide what you think is cute. That’s fair.”

“Fine,” Finn says. He does shake, then, and water flies everywhere. “Still cute?” he asks.

Puck smirks and nods. “Yep.” 

“Hmph.” 

“Be nice to me or I won’t play with your earlobe again.”

“If you do the ear thing again, I’m gonna have to take another shower,” Finn points out.

“Then I’ll wait until the morning.” Puck shrugs. “C’mon, get in bed.”

“Okay,” Finn says, sliding under the blankets next to Puck. 

“Maybe your mom’ll get a slightly bigger mattress,” Puck says, rolling towards Finn. “If I’m staying here.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Finn agrees. “Night, Puck.”

“I don’t get a good night kiss?” Puck teases. 

Finn rolls onto his side. “Yeah, you get one,” he says, kissing Puck. 

“Night, Finn,” Puck says with a little grin, closing his eyes. 

Puck doesn’t wake up during the middle of the night, but when he does wake up in the morning, he’s wrapped up in Finn’s arms again, his face smushed against Finn’s shoulder and neck, and Carole is standing beside the bed. 

“Boys, you need to get up and come eat breakfast so I can give you a ride,” she says. “Finn! Time to get up.”

“Okay,” Finn says. Finn doesn’t move, though, and Puck closes his eyes again, pushing his face into Finn’s neck. 

“There’s waffles and bacon,” Carole tries, and Puck does let out a little whine. 

“Okay,” Finn repeats. “Go away now, Mom.”

“If you aren’t downstairs in five minutes, I’m coming back with a pitcher of water and a bullhorn,” Carole threatens, but she does leave the room. 

“Waffles,” Puck says after Carole closes the door. “Bacon. You’ve got to let me have bacon and waffles.”

“Okay, okay, I’m awake,” Finn says. 

Puck blows a raspberry on Finn’s neck, which makes Finn make a high-pitched whine and twist away from Puck. Puck laughs and grabs Finn with his hands, kissing Finn hard. “No, now you are,” Puck says. 

“Okay, I’m really awake,” Finn says. “Morning breath!”

“Whine, whine,” Puck says, rolling onto his back and stretching before getting up. “You should be grateful. It’s not like we can make out during football practice.” 

“You could get naked and dance on the bleachers and Tanaka wouldn’t notice it,” Finn says.

“Well, yeah, but we might get hit on the head with a football or something,” Puck says with a shrug. He pulls on some clothes and then looks around. “You think our practice stuff is downstairs?”

“Probably. I’m supposed to put my own stuff away, so it’s probably still down there.”

“Okay.” Puck grabs his shoes and heads towards the door. “You ready?” Finn nods, and they go downstairs to the kitchen. Puck doesn’t really think about everything going on that day, just the waffles and bacon and then, once they leave with their practice stuff, sitting in the back of Carole’s car, Finn’s hand holding Puck’s. Then they get to the health department, and Puck signs in with why he’s there and starts to feel a little jumpy as he sits down. 

The health department gives him a bunch of forms to fill out, and Carole has another form or two from the police department, and after Puck fills them out as well as he can, Carole has to sign some of them. Once they turn in the forms, though, there’s nothing to do but wait, and Puck frowns at the floor, jiggling his foot. 

Finn takes Puck’s hand again, holding them low so nobody walking around the clinic can see, and whispers, “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just peeing in a cup and letting ‘em take some blood, right?” Puck says. 

“I guess?”

“It’s probably fine,” Puck says, though he’s not sure if he’s trying to convince Finn or himself. 

Finn nods and squeezes Puck’s hand. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he says. “It’ll be fine.”

“Noah Puckerman?” gets called from the doorway, and Puck stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans and nodding. 

“I’ll wait out here for you,” Finn says. “If the blood makes you woozy, tell ‘em to come get me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says, nodding and following the nurse through the doorway. They hand him a cup and send him to the bathroom before putting him in a room. The nurse takes his blood and says they’ll have some of the results by the time the doctor comes in, then tells him to get undressed from the waist down, put a paper blanket over himself, and wait. 

Puck decides the paper blanket part is probably the most humiliating, especially since the waiting for the doctor turns out to take about fifteen or twenty minutes, and there Puck is, sitting half-naked in a room with a t-shirt and a piece of paper on. 

When the doctor comes in, he makes Puck lie back before he moves the paper and looks for whatever, then tells Puck he can get dressed and come into the doctor’s conference room next door to talk about the exam and the tests. Puck frowns as the door closes, because if he was fine, wouldn’t they just tell him that and let him leave? At least he gets to put his jeans back on, and Puck goes to the conference room, knocking tentatively on the doorframe. 

“Should I get Finn or his mom?” Puck asks. 

“I’ll send a nurse up for Mrs. Hudson,” the doctor says. 

Puck’s frown deepens and he sits down in the one of the chairs. “Is it AIDS?” he blurts.

“We’ll wait for Mrs. Hudson,” the doctor says. He presses a button on the phone on the conference table and asks for the nurse to get Carole. Puck stares at the table, trying to remember what he’s heard about AIDS and medication, because he’s pretty sure people don’t die in a year or two anymore. Before he can start asking more questions, he hears Carole approach, and she pats Puck’s arm as she sits down next to him. 

“Hello, Doctor,” Carole says. “Let’s just cut the waiting short for this poor boy, yes?”

The doctor nods and looks down at a paper in front of him. “We’ll do some cultures to be sure, and there’s still some outstanding bloodwork, but the rapid tests came back negative for everything but chlamydia,” the doctor says. “We’ll prescribe a single dose of azithromycin, retest in two weeks. If the test is still positive, we’ll look at alternative treatment, but usually the azithromycin clears it up quickly.”

“Chlamydia?” Puck repeats, making a face. “So it’s not AIDS?”

“No, the HIV test came back negative,” the doctor says. 

“I don’t feel sick, though,” Puck says. 

“Chlamydia, like many sexually transmitted diseases, is often asymptomatic,” the doctor explains. “That means you don’t feel sick, but you can still be spreading the infection to others.”

“But the az-whatever-sin stuff will get rid of it?”

“Yes, azithromycin should clear it up within two weeks.”

“Okay. That’s all, then?” Puck asks. 

“You should inform any of your current or previous sexual partners, so they can be tested as well,” the doctor says. “The nurse will make sure all the paperwork gets processed correctly.”

“Uh.” Puck looks at Carole. “Do _I_ have to do that?” he whispers to her. 

“Oh, no, sweetie,” Carole says, patting his knee. “I’m sure that one of the detectives will take care of that. You would only have to tell anyone else, not any of _them_.”

“Okay.” Puck sighs and realizes he’s been clutching the arms of the chair really tightly. “We can leave now?” he asks the doctor. 

The doctors nods. “The prescription’ll be waiting for you at check-out.”

Puck stands up and walks out of the room before the doctor can change his mind, and he can hear Carole saying something to the doctor before following him down the hall to the checkout. Carole stops at the window, and Puck keeps walking, going back into the waiting room and towards Finn. 

“Hey,” Puck says. 

“Hey, how’d it go?” Finn asks. “You were back there a long time.”

“I had to sit around half-naked under a paper blanket, and now I have to take some drug and get retested in two weeks,” Puck says, shrugging a little. 

“Drug?” Finn looks startled. “What drug? What’s wrong? Are you gonna _die_?”

“Nah, no dying. I asked about that,” Puck says, jerking his head towards the door and walking outside. He waits until the door is closed before he keeps talking. “Chlamydia or something? I don’t know. It’s not AIDS. And the doctor was all, you need to inform your current or past partners.” Puck snorts. 

“Oh, shit, they aren’t really gonna make you do that, are they?”

“Your mom said the cops would do it. But I mean, I guess since Santana and I did it a couple of times, I have to tell her?” Puck shrugs. “I mean, _she_ made me use a condom.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Finn says. “Shit, Puck, I’m sorry.”

“You think the cops would tell her, too?” Puck says. “I wish I, I don’t know, smoked or something.” 

“Maybe they would. We could get some cigarettes and _try_ to smoke, if you want.”

“It just sounds like something to _do_ ,” Puck says. “You know?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. He takes Puck’s hand again.

“I guess I’ll get my medicine from your mom and we can go get lunch,” Puck says. “Probably shouldn’t buy cigarettes in front of your mom.” 

Carole comes outside right after that, holding a small bottle and a stack of folded papers. “Here you go, Noah. I’m sure you can take it at lunch so you have something to drink.” 

“Okay,” Puck says, pocketing the bottle without really looking at it. 

“I’ll come get the two of you after your practice,” Carole says. “Finn, this is for your lunch.” She hands Finn some cash, then stands on tiptoes and gives him a hug before giving Puck a half-hug. “Have a good lunch and a good practice, boys.” 

“Thanks, Mom,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Puck echoes, standing in the same spot until after Carole’s left the parking lot. “What do you want for lunch?” he asks Finn. 

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Finn says. “Anything you want.”

“Joey’s?” Puck says, starting to walk down the stairs. 

“Sure.”

After they get their food, Puck takes the medicine out of the bottle, thinks about throwing it away there, and then decides he should probably throw it away at Finn’s. When they finish, Puck starts walking towards the school, though up a few blocks to find a gas station. 

“All seriousness, you think the cops would tell Santana? I’m not the only person she’s slept with this summer. But if I tell her it’s me…” Puck trails off. 

“Hey, if the cops won’t tell her, I’ll tell her,” Finn says. “I’ll tell her that some dude told me to tell her that some other dude told him to tell me to tell her. She’ll be so confused, she won’t even ask if it’s you.”

Puck snorts. “Yeah, maybe so. But you know she’d tell everybody.”

“Yeah, I know,” Finn says. 

“I don’t want to be the whore or the kid with an STD.” 

“I know,” Finn says. “But that’s not what you are, okay?”

“I kind of _am_ a kid with an STD,” Puck points out. “And you heard the news, what they called it. I just don’t want everyone _talking_ about it.” 

“If they do, I’ll punch them. In the face.”

“Let me guess,” Puck says. “With a knife?”

“Probably not at school. They’d suspend me for ten days,” Finn says. “Zero tolerance.”

“Yeah, good point.” Puck stops outside the gas station and shrugs. “I’m going to see if they’ll sell me any.”

“Don’t buy the menthol kind, though. Only old people smoke those!”

Puck laughs and grins over his shoulder at Finn as he walks in. There’s two people in line, and Puck picks up a lighter while he waits. When he steps up to the counter, he nods at the wall of cigarettes behind the clerk. “Two packs of Camels.” 

“I need to see some ID,” the clerk says rotely, and Puck puts down the lighter and shrugs casually. 

“Left it at home by accident. Workout time.” 

“How old are you?” the clerk says doubtfully, and Puck makes eye contact. 

“Old enough,” Puck says almost grimly. The clerk opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, then closes it and looks around before reaching behind him, picking up two packs of Camels without breaking eye contact. “Thanks,” Puck says, paying for the cigarettes and the lighter and walking back outside to Finn, holding them up as he gets closer. 

“Do you want to smoke them now or after practice?” Finn asks. 

“We’ve got enough time now,” Puck says, putting one of the packs in with his stuff for practice and starting to walk down the road. “You don’t have to. I just need something to do with my hands.” 

“I’m in if you’re in,” Finn says stubbornly. 

“Okay,” Puck says, pulling out two of the cigarettes and handing one to Finn. “Guess it would suck kissing me if you weren’t smoking ‘em, too.” He holds up the lighter. “Need a light?”

“Sure,” Finn says. He sticks the cigarette in his mouth and leans forward, sucking air in as Puck lights the end of the cigarette. He immediately begins coughing and gagging. “Oh shit this sucks this sucks,” he croaks. 

“Maybe it’s one of those things you have to get used to,” Puck says, sticking his cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. He coughs a little, makes a face, and tries to inhale again, which makes him cough more. 

Finn takes another drag from the cigarette, coughing even worse this time and turning kind of green. “Oh, shit, dude, I think I’m gonna hurl.”

“Don’t breath so deep,” Puck says, trying to show Finn what he means, and his eyes water a little. “It still kinda sucks, but it’s not as bad. Just until we get used to it.”

“How do people get used to this?” Finn says through rasps and coughs.

“Maybe it’s like food, you have to try it more than once,” Puck says with a shrug. “It kind of feels like it’s singeing my nose.”

“I think my lungs are on fire.”

“Want me to check?” Puck offers, taking another very shallow drag of his cigarette. 

“Yeah,” Finn says.

“Good,” Puck says, moving his cigarette to his other hand and pulling Finn into a kiss. He pushes his tongue into Finn’s mouth, ignoring the fact that there are at least a few cars going by and concentrating more on the fact that Finn doesn’t really taste like cigarettes but he tastes different, and then Puck realizes that probably they should stop kissing on the sidewalk and he pulls back. “Nope, not on fire. You taste different, though.”

“You, too,” Finn says. 

“Bad-different or good-different?” Puck asks, starting to walk slowly down the sidewalk again. 

“I can’t tell, ‘cause I feel like I’ve gotta puke still,” Finn says. 

“Can’t be too bad then?” Puck says, taking another slow drag. “I kind of liked it.” 

“I just like kissing you, no matter what you taste like,” Finn says.

“Yeah. I can’t kiss you all the time, though,” Puck says. “So this is good when I can’t.” Puck had spent most of the summer not thinking about it, and now he feels like he can’t think about anything else, and the only two things that have kept him calm are Finn and now the cigarette is at least calmer than without it. 

“Okay,” Finn says. “If that’s what you need.” He takes another puff from the cigarette, still looking greenish.

“We can try another one after practice, before your mom picks us up,” Puck says. “We’ll get used to it.” When they reach the field, Puck realizes they have close to an hour before practice, which means at least forty-five minutes before anyone else shows up. “Or we can make out for awhile and then have another one and then get ready for practice.” 

“I like that idea, too,” Finn says. 

Puck grins. “Cool.” That’s exactly what they do, finishing their cigarettes just before the rest of the team starts to show up, and Puck digs around in his bag for his practice clothes, listening to everyone else, and then he turns to Finn. 

“You know, our lockers are next to each other, and we’re coming from the same place and going to the same place, we should just bring one bag.”

“Yeah, that’s a good plan,” Finn says. “We’ll just take turns hauling it back and forth.”

“Okay, yeah,” Puck says, switching out his shirts. He’s trying to listen to what the rest of the locker room is saying, but he doesn’t hear anything except whining about practice, the heat, and food, until some of the seniors walk in. 

“Poor Dylan,” one guy says, sounding like he doesn’t really feel sorry for Dylan at all. “You hear about his mom?”

“What about his mom?” someone else in the group asks. 

“She got _arrested_ yesterday,” the first guy says, and now he sounds almost gleeful about it. “My dad told me it was that child prostitution thing.” 

“Dylan’s mom is _gay_?” a third voice asks, laughing. 

“No, they had, like, underage guys I guess!” 

Puck has no idea who Dylan is, what his last name is, or whether or not he’s ever even seen Dylan’s mom, but Lima’s not really that big, and he can feel himself sort of freezing in place in front of his locker. The next thing he feels is Finn’s hand being all huge and paw-like on his back, and Puck takes a deep breath. He can hear them laughing about something, but he can’t let on that he’s upset about anything. 

“Talk to me,” Puck whispers to Finn. “About anything, just talk to me.” 

“What do you think my mom’s gonna cook for dinner?” Finn says, leaning in closer to Puck, so he’s a physical barrier between Puck and the guys talking. “I was thinking we should tell her to do burgers, not meatloaf. I saw ground beef thawing in the fridge.”

“I like your mom’s meatloaf, though,” Puck says. “And maybe we could get burgers over the weekend. Maybe she’ll make mashed potatoes.”

“Yeah, that would be cool,” Finn says.

“I like her chicken casserole thing, too,” Puck says, tying his shoes. 

“If you tell her that, she’ll make it for you,” Finn says. “She’ll make all the stuff you like. Just tell her how much you love them.”

“Are you suggesting I be a complete asshole and take total advantage of her pity?” Puck asks, straightening up. “‘Cause I guess if it means chicken casserole, I could.” 

“Yeah, you gotta get what you can get while you can get it,” Finn says.

Puck looks at Finn suspiciously as they walk out of the locker room. “Does that mean you’re going to stop kissing me when you don’t feel sorry for me?” he whispers. 

“No. Don’t be dumb,” Finn says. “I’m more worried about you stopping kissing me once you’re feeling better.”

“I’m not _that_ complete of an asshole!” Puck says with a frown. 

“I don’t think you’re really an asshole at all, I just worry you’ll change your mind later on,” Finn says, shrugging. 

“Okay, but everyone’s supposed to think I’m an asshole, first of all,” Puck says, “and second of all, I’m not, like, proposing or anything, but I’m not planning on changing my mind, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Cool.” When everyone gets onto the field, the seniors seem to _still_ be talking about Dylan’s mom, whoever she is, but Tanaka blows the whistle pretty quickly, which makes them shut up. Puck is pretty sure that Tanaka is ready for the weekend to start or something, because he lets them stop practice a good thirty minutes early. 

Once they’re dressed and outside, Puck sits on the sidewalk around the corner from where Carole will eventually come pick them up, and he gestures for Finn to sit beside him as he lights two more cigarettes and passes one to Finn. “Maybe third time’s the charm or whatever.” 

Finn takes a big drag on his cigarette and immediately begins coughing, a horrible strangled, phlegmy cough that makes his eyes water. “Maybe not,” Finn manages to get out.

“Like I said, you don’t have to just because I am,” Puck says. “I mean, I kind of like the way it makes you taste, but you don’t have to.”

“No, I said if you’re doing it, I’m doing it,” Finn insists. 

“Okay, just checking,” Puck says, leaning against the wall behind them. “It makes you look kind of like James Dean.” 

“Yeah? You like that?” Finn asks.

Puck turns his head towards Finn and grins. “If I say yes, does that mean you’ll get a leather jacket?”

“I can’t afford a leather jacket,” Finn says.

“Okay, a used leather jacket?” Puck tries. 

“Sure,” Finn says. “I’ll look for one next time I go to the used jacket store.”

Puck sticks out his tongue at Finn and then takes another drag from his cigarette. “I’m just saying, maybe you could cultivate it. That’s the right word, right?”

Finn shrugs. “I dunno. I don’t think I look very James Deanish, but if you think so, maybe I can just ask Mom for a jacket or something.”

“Make sure you tell her leather, ‘cause we get our jackets for football sometime, right?” Puck says. “If you just say a jacket, she’ll say you’re getting one anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll tell her I need a leather jacket like James Dean ‘cause Puck says so.”

Puck grins. “Yeah, exactly.” He leans around the corner, looking down the sidewalk and at the parking lot. “I think almost everyone’s gone.”

“Good. I don’t want them around, anyway,” Finn says. 

“Doesn’t matter if your mom catches us kissing,” Puck says casually. 

“Yeah, I guess not,” Finn says, leaning in to put his mouth on Puck’s, one of his arms already wrapping around Puck’s back. Puck grins against Finn, letting his lips part, and he puts out the cigarette with one hand before dropping it and putting that hand in Finn’s hair. He pushes his tongue into Finn’s mouth, and Puck decides he more than kind of likes the way Finn tastes post-smoking, a little singed and the cigarette taste over how Finn usually tastes. 

Puck keeps kissing Finn when he thinks he hears Carole’s car, up until the point that a car horn blares, and Puck jumps and pulls away with a grin. “Guess she did interrupt us.”

“Yeah,” Finn says, the smile he gives Puck a little sappy. Puck stands up and holds his hand out for Finn, and he leaves his hand in Finn’s until they get to Carole’s car and climb in. 

“How was practice, boys?” Carole asks, then makes a weird face. 

“Short,” Puck says. 

“Lame,” Finn adds. “Bunch of gossips and assholes. Sorry, Mom. Buttholes.”

“Oh,” Carole says, still making a weird face, and Puck sees her looking in the mirror at them a few times on the drive home. Puck’s hand _is_ back in Finn’s, but he figures that’s probably not what she’s making weird faces about. When they get to Finn’s, Finn and Puck sit down on the couch, and Carole goes into the kitchen. About three minutes later, though, she calls out for Finn. “I need you to come in here for a moment, Finn!” 

“Okay,” Finn calls back. “I’ll be right back,” he says to Puck.

Puck nods, but he can hear everything Carole says as soon as Finn gets into the kitchen, so he’s not sure why Carole bothered getting Finn in a different room. 

“Finn, can you get that down?” Carole says, and then pauses for few seconds before continuing. “I noticed the distinct smell of cigarette smoke this afternoon.”

“Yeah?” Finn replies, sounding more than a little defiant.

“Finn, do I really need to remind you that you and Noah are both only fifteen, and aside from that, it’s a very unhealthy habit,” Carole says firmly. 

“Yeah, well, a lot of unhealthy stuff has happened this summer,” Finn says. 

Carole doesn’t say anything for a long time, long enough that Puck starts to wonder what’s going on, and when he leans forward to try to look into the kitchen, it just seems like maybe Finn’s staring at Carole. Puck leans back and then hears Carole sigh heavily. 

“I suppose that’s true,” she says, sounding sad. “Try… try not to make it too frequent. And not in the house.” 

Puck shrugs a little to himself. He guesses they should have thought about Carole smelling the smoke on them, but they hadn’t, and she’s probably right about it being unhealthy, but it’s not like Puck’s planning on relying on it for years and years. 

“Yeah, we won’t, Mom,” Finn says. “Are we done?”

Carole sighs again, but she must nod. “Dinner’ll be ready in about thirty-five minutes.” 

“Thanks, Mom,” Finn says, then Puck can hear him heading towards the living room again. “Hey. Did you wanna hang out upstairs until dinner?”

Puck grins. “We could hang out upstairs most of the weekend, I figure.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s probably the best way to spend a weekend,” Finn says. Puck keeps grinning and stands up, following Finn upstairs. 

That is, more or less, how they spend the weekend, with the exception of meals, sitting outside with a few cigarettes, and Saturday night, when Carole does take them to get hamburgers before dragging them to see _The Time Traveler’s Wife_ with her. Finn ends up bawling on Puck’s shirt through the end of the movie and the credits, and Puck’s pretty sure it’s more than _just_ the movie, since the crying lasts so long, but he puts his arm around Finn’s shoulder and tilts his head on top of Finn’s and doesn’t say anything. 

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday are so much alike that Puck almost forgets it’s the last week of summer vacation. Everything falls into a great routine, and Puck doesn’t even have to be the one to get his stuff from his mom’s house. Puck almost forgets that on Thursday, instead of football practice, he has to go see the therapist. It’s not required, but Carole thinks it’s a good idea, and the detectives do, too, because they have some kind of pre-trial hearings soon. Puck’s not supposed to have to testify at those, but he might, so they want him to have at least started seeing someone. Puck picked the therapist almost at random, eliminating all the women and then picking the man who had the nicest suits and the shortest hair without being bald. 

“I don’t want to get up and go to therapy,” Puck mumbles into Finn’s chest when the sun finally gets bright enough that it wakes Puck up. 

“You’ve gotta,” Finn says. “It’s important.”

“It’s so early,” Puck whines more than says. 

“I know,” Finn says. He runs his hands down Puck’s back, stopping just before he reaches Puck’s boxers, just like he does every time. 

“I have you and your mom,” Puck adds. “What is Mr. Yoder going to do for me?” 

“I don’t know. Therapist stuff. You have to do it. I want you to be okay.”

Puck carefully frowns. “But you said you wouldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.”

Finn lets out a long sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He sighs again, then says, “I guess I’m a liar, then, ‘cause you’ve gotta do this. Sorry.”

“Yeah, I know,” Puck concedes, lifting his head up to kiss Finn. “You’re not really a liar. At least not about this.” 

“I just want you to be okay,” Finn says. “I want you to be happy and feel better and be okay.”

“I know. So I guess we should go downstairs and have some Eggos, because those make me happy, and then we’ll make out, because I feel better when we do that, and then you can make me go see Mr. Yoder.” 

“Okay,” Finn says. “I’m sorry, Puck. I wish there was a better way to make you happy.”

“Eggos and kissing’s pretty good, though,” Puck says, sitting up and grinning at Finn briefly. “Maybe I should try giving you a hickey sometime.” 

“Sure, if you want to,” Finn says. 

“Well, you’re the one that would be walking around with it,” Puck says. “So I figured I’d make sure you wanted that kind of accessory for school.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Finn says. “I like anything we do together.”

“You’re even getting better at the smoking,” Puck says, pulling on his clothes and picking up his shoes. 

“Yeah, I don’t feel like I’m gonna puke anymore,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs and heads for the door. “I get the uneven Eggo!” he says over his shoulder as he runs for the stairs. 

“Hey!” Finn protests. “You always call the uneven Eggo!”

“My mind’s really good at remembering when there’s an uneven Eggo,” Puck says with a shrug. “Just like yours is better at remembering all those plays in football.”

“I don’t think I’m remembering them so good lately,” Finn says.

“Still better than anyone else,” Puck says as he gets out the Eggos and the syrup. “Me, I just run for the endzone if I get the ball.” 

“Mostly I just look for where you are and throw to you,” Finn says.

Puck shrugs again. “Yeah, but it seems to be working so far.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “It’s you and me. Of course it works.”

“When we actually get to use a ball, that is,” Puck says. “I think Tanaka wishes he could coach from that golf cart all of the time.” 

“Yeah. He’s an asshole.”

Puck snorts. “Well, yeah.” 

The two of them eat all of the Eggos, including Puck’s uneven one, and then Puck drags Finn outside for a cigarette before they make out and then start walking towards Mr. Yoder’s office. The location of Mr. Yoder’s office was another reason Puck had picked him, because walking from Finn’s is easier than having to get a ride from Carole all the time. 

“You think the cops really sent over the interview transcript?” Puck says when they’re halfway there. “I don’t really want to repeat it again.”

“I think you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do,” Finn says. “If he tries to make you, you walk out, and we’ll find you a new guy.”

“Well, yeah, I just mean… they were _supposed_ to send it so he wouldn’t even have to ask. I already had to fill out all that paperwork as it was.” 

“Yeah, I hope he doesn’t ask,” Finn says quietly. He squeezes Puck’s hand. 

“Yeah.” Puck tries to grin at Finn as they get to the office, but he knows he probably failed, and he goes in, pulling out all the paperwork and handing it over as he signs in. The receptionist says it’ll be just a few more minutes, and Puck sits down next to Finn, looking around. “Sorry, I guess it’ll be kind of boring.” 

“It’s cool. I’ll read a magazine or something.”

“Yeah, you can read _Field & Stream_ or _Cosmo_ , but I think neither of those is really up your alley,” Puck says with a small grin. 

“I might want to find out if I’m wearing the right colors for my skintone,” Finn says. “Or learn about…” He leans over and squints at magazine. “The new trends in fly-tying.”

Puck laughs. “You know, maybe you really are gay, rattling off that about colors for your skintone. I wasn’t sure before.” Before Finn can respond, the receptionist says that Mr. Yoder is ready for Puck, and Puck stands up, shrugging a little at Finn before following the receptionist down a hall. 

Mr. Yoder is wearing one of the same nice suits from his pictures, and he offers Puck his hand with a friendly-enough looking smile. “Sit down, sit down. You prefer to be called Puck?”

“Yeah, that’s what most people call me,” Puck says, taking a seat. 

“I’ve had a chance to review your file,” Mr. Yoder says as he sits as well. “And I’ve glanced at the paperwork you returned today. Before we start talking, is there any specific language you’d prefer to use or not use?” 

Puck shrugs. “I can’t think of anything, but I’ll let you know.” 

Most of the hour or so is a lot of questions, both from Mr. Yoder to Puck and from Puck to Mr. Yoder. Puck doesn’t feel like crying except once, and near the end of the hour, Mr. Yoder asks Puck who, exactly, Finn is. 

“I guess he’s my boyfriend,” Puck says, shrugging a little. “I mean, we’ve been best friends since kindergarten. And Carole, on the paperwork?” Puck gestures to his file. “That’s Finn’s mom.” 

“Oh, right, of course, of course,” Mr. Yoder says, looking surprised at first and then sheepish, making some kind of note in Puck’s file. The last five minutes pass pretty quickly, and then Puck has to figure out when he can fit in weekly appointments once school starts. 

“Can I just plan on coming during a free period or something?” Puck says with a frown. “You’re like halfway between Finn’s and the school, I wouldn’t want to walk to school but I could just walk here or something.” 

“Why don’t you get your schedule and then call or have Ms. Hudson call,” Mr. Yoder suggests. “Maybe you’ll have a free period first thing or last thing at least one day.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees, shaking Mr. Yoder’s hand again and going back into the waiting room, where Finn is reading _Cosmo_ with a worried look on his face.

He lifts his head as soon as Puck walks back into the waiting room, though, and immediately asks, "Was it okay? Did you like him okay? Do I have to go back there or anything?"

Puck laughs a little and shakes his head. “Nah, he was fine. Did you figure out your colors? Or mine?”

"I think maybe you're an autumn," Finn says, "but I'm not sure if I'm a winter or a spring, since I don't know what color of pink looks good on me."

“No pink,” Puck says as they walk back into the heat. “I think no pink is the right answer. Mr. Yoder asked who you were, speaking of answers.”

"Did you tell him I'm the guy who's gonna punch him if he makes you upset?" Finn asks.

“No. Well, I don’t know, maybe. I told him you were my boyfriend.” 

"Yeah?" Finn asks, looking like he's trying to be casual, but really wants smile real big. "That's cool. As long as it's cool for you, I mean."

“I am the one that said it,” Puck points out. “I mean, you’re still my best friend, too, but most best friends don’t do all the making out."

"Yeah, that's for sure a boyfriend thing," Finn agrees. "Which we can do more of when we get home? Unless you need a rest or something."

Puck laughs. “Well, we could be in bed either way, I guess, right? And we have to be rested for tomorrow.” 

"Right," Finn says.

“I have to get my schedule before I can make another appointment,” Puck says. “I know I should have made it for Thursdays since that’s the day we don’t have practice, but Thursday’s the day we don’t have practice.” 

"Yeah, I hear ya," Finn says. "It's almost like an extra weekend."

“Has your mom still been watching the news?” Puck asks quietly. After the second night of hearing the case discussed, Puck had decided he’d rather not know what the news was telling Lima day in and day out. 

"Yeah, but she said she'd only tell me if something changed or if it was important," Finn says. 

“But I guess that means it’s still on there, or she’d tell you it had changed and it wasn’t on there,” Puck says. “Monday’s going to be weird.” 

"Yeah," Finn sigh. "I'm sorry, Puck. I want to fix it all for you, but I dunno how to do it."

“I think… I think some things we don’t get to fix,” Puck admits. “Just move on from, you know?” 

"Sucks though."

“Yeah, I guess so,” Puck says, nodding a little. “What’re we going to do at school?” he asks, nodding a little at their hands. Puck doesn’t remember consciously taking Finn’s hand or Finn grabbing his, but they’re walking down the sidewalk hand in hand. 

"We'll do whatever you want," Finn says. "However you wanna play it. Open, not open, I'll do whatever you want me to do."

“I’m not sure,” Puck says. “Maybe we wait and see. Play it by ear. I don’t think we’d manage to keep it totally secret. Even though no one’s noticed at football.” 

Finn nods. "I'll follow your lead, try to remember not to hold your hand unless you grab mine first. I don't want to make it harder than it's already gonna be."

“Hey, at least it’d distract everybody, right?” Puck says, rolling his eyes a little. “People talk too much around here.” 

"Yeah, so I guess I'd better get my kisses while I can, right?" Finn says. His voice has kind of a weird tone, strained almost, but he doesn't let go of Puck's hand.

“We’re still going to have plenty of kissing,” Puck says, giving Finn a weird look. “I mean, they don’t let anyone really make out during class.” 

"Right," Finn says. 

“Seriously,” Puck says as they get close to Finn’s again. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

"I know," Finn says. "I know that."

“Yeah, but you sound like you don’t really believe me or something,” Puck says. 

"I'm just thinking about school starting," Finn says. 

“Yeah?” Puck says, squeezing Finn’s hand a little. 

"Yeah."

“What about it?” Puck asks. 

“I’m just wondering how it’s gonna be,” Finn says. “I’m just worrying about it.”

“Okay, I know you technically finished the sentence, but I’m calling it as unfinished,” Puck says as they get to Finn’s house. “Be specific and use small words,” he adds, sticking out his tongue at Finn. 

“I’m worried you’re gonna hear stuff and be upset,” Finn says. “I’m worried that the thing with you and me’s gonna make it worse. I’m worried about _stuff_ !”

“Yeah.” Puck sits down on the couch. “Probably on the first one. It’s not been long enough and then it’ll be in the news when more court stuff happens. I don’t guess there’s anything we can do about it. But… they’re not supposed to know who it is. So you and me, that shouldn’t get thrown around with it. Right?”

“Maybe,” Finn says, shrugging. 

“You think it’s going to get out?” Puck asks. 

Finn sighs. “I dunno, but don’t these things usually?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Puck says, frowning. “If it does, it’ll probably be because Santana’ll put the pieces together.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I don’t think I can punch her, though, knife or no knife.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Puck says. He sighs and decides to try to change the subject, even though it isn’t much different. “Mr. Yoder said there were books I should read. I laughed at him, but he insisted I should read at least one.” 

“Maybe you can get a book on tape of it?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. He said that my reactions were basically normal. I told him it was the first time I’ve been called normal in a long time.” 

Finn nods and takes Puck’s hand, squeezing it. Puck looks at him, managing a lopsided, half-hearted grin. 

“I didn’t really understand some of what he said, but he said that a lot of guys feel like they’re supposed to want to have sex no matter what the circumstances, so there’s a lot of not dealing with it at first or something. Which I guess makes sense. ‘Cause I’ve been asking myself why I kept doing it, you know?” 

Finn nods again and says, “Yeah.” 

“‘Cause I guess I felt like Ryan was right, you know? Why would a guy turn down sex?” Puck shrugs. “And now it’s just more I remember.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Puck shrugs again. “But yeah, Mr. Yoder said it was… okay, I guess, if I’m a little weird for awhile.” 

“I should have known. I should have realized something was wrong,” Finn says. 

“Why would you have even _thought_ of it?” Puck says, shaking his head. “It makes sense you’d think I was just being a dick.” 

“I dunno. I just feel like I let you down. I was pissed at you.”

“Yeah, I mean, that makes a lot more sense,” Puck says. “You didn’t stay pissed. That’s the part that matters, right?” 

“I guess,” Finn says, not sounding like he really believes it. 

“Okay, well, that’s the part I think matters,” Puck says. 

“Okay.”

“Seriously,” Puck insists. “You could’ve, I don’t know. Acted like it wasn’t a big deal, or not believed me, or still been pissed at me.” 

“I wouldn’t do that,” Finn says. “And I wouldn’t have still been pissed at you. None of that stuff is your fault.”

“Yeah, and it’s not yours either,” Puck says. “C’mon, let’s eat some lunch and make out.” 

“Okay. That kinda sounds like the best kind of afternoon,” Finn says. 

Puck grins. “Yeah, it does.” 

The next day at practice, Tanaka posts a roster for the first game, and once Puck pushes through enough to read it, he whoops and then goes back to Finn, slinging one arm around Finn’s shoulders. 

“Told you,” he says smugly. 

“Guess our plan of you running and me throwing to you worked,” Finn says. “Go us!”

“Shh, don’t let on it’s that simple,” Puck says, “or we’ll be on the bench instead of first string.” He grins at Finn and steers them the rest of the way into the locker room, where Tanaka makes them sit down for some kind of lecture that Tanaka himself doesn’t seem to understand. At the end of it, though, Tanaka gives out the patch-things to the guys who were already on varsity, and jackets to the rest of them, and even though it’s too warm for a jacket, Puck slides his on, putting his hands in his pockets. “Try yours on,” he says to Finn. 

Finn pulls the jacket on, looking at the sleeves and fiddling with the snaps. “Looks pretty cool?”

“Yeah, looks good,” Puck says. “And your sleeves are even long enough.” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome,” Finn says. 

Puck grins at Finn as the room starts to empty out. “You know, I’ve never made out with the starting quarterback before.” 

“I haven’t made out with _anybody_ on first string,” Finn says. 

“We should probably take care of that, right?” Puck says. “Maybe head—head home first?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “We can do that.”

Puck stands up and grins, waiting until they’re outside the locker room to grab Finn’s hand. “You know, maybe we should be really obvious. No one would think I could be involved in the other stuff, then.”

“I can do obvious, too,” Finn says. “I’ll be as obvious as you want me to be.”

“Yeah, I figured you could,” Puck says, still grinning. “No one’s going to stop and ask if I’m bi, you know?”

“Right,” Finn says. 

“But make sure you want to. I mean, I can deal with it if I have to.”

Finn shrugs. “I said I’m fine with however you want to do it. That means I’m fine with it working this way, too.”

“Okay.” Puck laughs. “You think it’s like a gay teen movie cliche? The quarterback and the running back?” 

“I haven’t seen any gay teen movies,” Finn says.

“Yeah, me either. I just figured it wasn’t quarterback and cheerleader like the after-school specials.” 

“You could be my cheerleader,” Finn says. “You could jump up and down and cheer for me when I throw to you.”

“I am _not_ wearing a skirt, and I have to worry about, you know, catching the ball and running,” Puck says, laughing again. “Maybe you should cheer for me when I get a touchdown.”

“We’ll be each other’s cheerleaders.”

“Yeah, but still no skirts,” Puck insists. 

“Definitely no skirts,” Finn says.

“Is that our first rule?” Puck says. “No skirts?”

“That might be our _only_ rule, dude.”

“Yeah, but I think it’s a pretty good rule to have.” 

Puck and Finn had planned on spending Saturday and Sunday just hanging out at home, and Puck thinks it’s interesting that it’s not Finn’s in his head anymore, just home. They were going to sleep in and make out and maybe watch some movies in between meals, but Carole gets them up early for breakfast on Saturday and then informs them they’re driving to Dayton for back-to-school shopping. Puck hadn’t realized it was possible to spend that much time in Target, but Carole makes them try on everything they pick out, then goes slowly through every single school supply aisle. Just when Puck thinks they’re done, Carole announces they should go look at sheets, since she’s planning to buy a queen sized mattress for their room. 

“Can we go outside or something first?” Puck asks, giving Finn a desperate look. 

“Yeah, you run for the door,” Finn whispers. “I’ll distract her!”

Puck laughs and grabs Finn’s hand anyway, pulling them towards the front door. Carole huffs behind them, then says “meet me in sheets in twenty minutes!” before turning around and walking towards the kitchen stuff. Puck doesn’t stop until they’re outside, leaning against the wall, and he pulls out a pack of cigarettes, offering it to Finn first. 

“It’s a lot of people,” he says. 

“Yeah. I’m tired of shopping,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, exactly.” Puck lights his cigarette and passes the lighter to Finn. “I didn’t know it was possible to get lost in Target, but I was starting to think maybe we had.” 

“We got lost in a time warp or something, probably.”

“Not nearly as much fun as what we were going to be doing today,” Puck says with a sigh, taking a long drag on his cigarette. 

“Maybe she’ll feed us somewhere good and then we can go home,” Finn says. 

“Maybe steak,” Puck says. “Or that pizza place around the corner.”

“Oh yeah, pizza would be good.”

Puck looks around and then leans towards Finn, stretching up to kiss him. “Yeah. Pizza’s good. C’mon.” Puck flicks his cigarette on the ground and grabs Finn’s hand. “Quicker we let your mom buy some sheets, the better.” 

On Sunday they do get to just stay at home, and Carole lets them sleep in, too, which means when Carole tells them to go to bed so they can wake up for school in the morning, Puck isn’t really that tired. He’s still awake and he knows from Carole _not_ saying anything that people at school will probably still be talking about the case. It’s the largest organized criminal activity in the city in years, or something like that, so Puck’s sure it’ll be one of the main topics of discussion, and there’s no way he and Finn are going to be lucky enough to have all their classes together. 

“Can’t sleep,” Puck mutters after about thirty minutes of lying in the dark. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Finn says. 

“I keep telling myself if we act like nothing’s changed, people might believe it.” 

“Except for that part where we’re being obvious,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, no, I mean, how we treat everyone else,” Puck explains. “Not each other.” 

“Yeah, no reason for any of that to change,” Finn agrees.

“I’ll keep the cigarettes in my jacket, though,” Puck says thoughtfully. “It’ll be okay.” 

“Cool.”

“Yeah,” Puck says, rolling closer to Finn and closing his eyes. “It’ll be cool.” 

“Yeah, definitely cool,” Finn says, his hand landing on Puck’s back and slowly patting him. 

Puck nods, trying to make his breathing match Finn’s, and he can feel himself starting to drift off. “You’re cool,” he mutters.

“Yeah, you too,” Finn says.

Puck grins a little and shuffles closer to Finn, letting himself fall asleep. The alarm goes off too early, the sun already up, and Puck groans. 

“No,” he whines. “Let’s take the GED.” 

“I like that plan. That plan’s better than this plan.”

“Finn! Noah!” Carole knocks on the bedroom door. “Breakfast in ten minutes.” 

“I think your mom won’t let us,” Puck says with a groan. 

“She’s not the boss of me,” Finn whispers. 

“Yeah, I am,” Puck says. “But she’s probably the boss of me.” 

“Shit, you’re probably right,” Finn concedes. “I guess that means we have to get dressed.”

“Yeah,” Puck says, sighing before rolling out of Finn’s arms and sitting up. The real impact of all the time at Target is just that Puck has more t-shirts to pick from to go with jeans, but it still doesn’t take them long to get dressed and go downstairs, where Carole is pouring orange juice. 

“Pancakes and bacon for the first day,” she says. “Don’t get too used to it, unless one of you plans to learn how to make pancakes and bacon.” 

“Pancakes can’t be that hard,” Puck says as he sits down. 

“I can make bacon in the microwave,” Finn says.

“No, you can’t, Finn,” Carole says patiently. “Remember, you caught the last two microwaves on fire. If you insist on making bacon, please use the oven or the stove.” 

“I didn’t say I could make it _good_ in the microwave,” Finn says. “I just said I could make it.”

“I don’t want to buy another microwave soon, though,” Carole says, putting a plate of bacon on the table. “You have about twenty minutes before the bus, unless you want me to drive you today.”

Puck looks at Finn and shrugs.

“We get there a little early and scope out our lockers,” Finn says.

Puck nods. “Maybe our schedules, too.” 

Carole smiles almost smugly at them. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re done, then.” 

Finn starts shoveling pancakes and bacon into his mouth as fast as he can. Puck grins a little and picks up the syrup, pouring it over his pancakes and watching it soak in while he eats his bacon. As he eats, he thinks that he was probably right, it can’t be too hard to make pancakes. It’s just mixing batter and then flipping them over. 

After they finish, they grab their jackets and their backpacks and their bag with their football clothes in it, and Carole drives them to McKinley, keeping the radio off and occasionally looking behind her at them. Puck shrugs, because he guesses he’d be concerned for them, too, if he were her. 

“We can go to our lockers and then find the guys outside,” Puck says to Finn after they climb out of the car. 

“Yeah, I hope we’re at least in a couple of classes together,” Finn says. 

“You’d think that wouldn’t be hard, since we take the same classes,” Puck grumbles, looking around as they walk into the school. Not many people are there yet, which means there aren’t a lot of people talking about much of anything. Puck unloads half of his backpack in his locker and then follows Finn to Finn’s locker. “You think they’d give us our schedules now if we stopped at homeroom?”

“I bet they would,” Finn says. “C’mon, we’ll see.” He takes Puck’s hand, just like he always does, and starts to pull Puck in the direction of Puck’s homeroom. 

“If they won’t, I’ll distract ‘em and you find it anyway,” Puck says as they walk down the hall. They get a few sidelong looks, but no one says anything, and when one girl stares for too long, Puck just stares back until she flushes and looks away. When they get to Puck’s homeroom, he knocks on the doorframe with his free hand. “Mr., uh.” Puck puts his head back outside the room, reading the name on the wall. “Ward. Could I go ahead and get my schedule?”

“Sure. Last name?”

“Puckerman.” 

Mr. Ward nods and shuffles through a pile of schedules on his desk, holding one out in Puck’s direction without really looking at him. “Thanks,” Puck says, taking the schedule and shrugging at Finn as they leave the room. “I guess I can go see Mr. Yoder before school one day. First period free,” he says to Finn. “Let’s go get yours.” 

“Cool,” Finn says, and with his hand still wrapped around Puck’s, they walk towards Finn’s homeroom. This time no one stares, but that could be because it’s a shorter walk. When they walk into Finn’s homeroom, it’s obvious the teacher remembers him from last year, because she says, “Hello, Finn.”

“Can I have my schedule?” Finn asks.

“Oh, of course,” she says, flipping through the stack on her desk and pulling one out. “Here you go.” 

“Cool, thanks!” Finn says. He looks down at his schedule and squints at it in confusion. “You’re sure this one’s mine?”

“Hudson, Finn,” she says with a nod. “Why? It didn’t put you in senior English, did it? We had a problem with that, but I thought they all got fixed.”

“No, it’s just it’s the—you know what? Nevermind, I’m just confused,” Finn says, folding the schedule up and putting it in his pocket. “Thanks. I’ll be back in… some time.”

“What’s up?” Puck asks as they leave the room and he steers them back towards the front doors. 

“I’ve got the same schedule as you,” Finn says. “Like, exactly the same.”

“Seriously?” Puck says. “That’s awesome. Suspicious, but awesome.” 

“I know, right? But I’m not looking a gift schedule in the, uh, schedule.”

“Definitely not,” Puck agrees. When they get outside, some of the guys from the team wave at them. 

“C’mon, guys!” Cody calls, and Puck shrugs. 

“Who do you think it is?” Puck asks Finn. “Jewfro?”

“Nah, we’d be able to see his hair,” Finn. “I think it’s that Kurt kid, the one with the weird clothes.”

“Oh, yeah, he always complains about them,” Puck says as they walk toward the dumpster, still holding hands. Finn’s right, Puck can tell as they get closer: it _is_ that Kurt kid, clutching a bag and managing to look scared and like he’s looking down at all of them at the same time. Puck nods at the other guys on the team, and Cody gives them a weird look but doesn’t say anything. 

“Time to welcome the queer to a new school year,” Justin says, and Puck glares at him. 

“Can it,” Puck says. 

“He’s kind of a stuck-up snob,” Finn says, “but not ‘cause he’s gay.”

“I’m not gay!” Kurt squeaks, his eyes darting everywhere, but he looks confused.

Puck laughs. “That’s what you’re going with? C’mon, we all know the drill.”

“Yeah, you walk around with this chip on your shoulder like you’re better than all of us,” Finn says. “But you know what? Your coats just look stupid. You could just be friends with people.”

Kurt’s mouth opens and closes a few times, enough that Puck starts to think he looks like a goldfish or something, and Puck laughs again. “Finn’s not wrong,” he says, squeezing Finn’s hand once before dropping it and walking over to Kurt. “C’mon, someone get his feet.” 

“Got ‘em,” Cody volunteers. 

“Wait!” Kurt says. “These are brand new clothes!” 

“The coat, too?” Finn asks.

“Yes!” Kurt squeaks. 

“Okay, gimme the coat,” Finn says. “Hat and bag, too. I’ll keep them until homeroom. You’re in my homeroom, right?”

“You’re too nice to him,” Puck says to Finn, crossing his arms while Kurt takes off his hat and coat. “Considering he’s not very nice to us.” 

“Maybe I’d be nicer if you didn’t throw me in the dumpster!” Kurt says. 

“We started adding you to the rotation because you kept muttering insults,” Justin says, and Puck nods, because he’d forgotten about that. 

“Yeah, you did call me and Puck ‘maladjusted troglodytes’ one time because Puck accidentally closed that fox tail thing you wear in his locker,” Finn points out. 

“That thing was super-weird,” Puck says, nodding at Cody before they lift Kurt up and toss him in the dumpster. “He called us ‘uncultured bears’ too.” 

“Boors!” Kurt yells from the dumpster. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what that means,” Puck says as everyone starts to leave. “Do you?” he asks Finn. 

“I’m not boring,” Finn says. “See? You’re not nice. I know some of these guys are jerks, but me and Puck aren’t jerks.”

Puck shrugs. “Guess he just assumed we were ‘cause we’re not taking smart people classes.” He can hear Kurt spluttering, and he looks at Kurt’s stuff that Finn’s holding. “Are you going to leave it here for him or are we waiting on him to climb out?”

“Nah, I told him I’d leave it in homeroom,” Finn says. 

“Oh, right,” Puck says, turning to leave the dumpster and taking Finn’s hand again. “So homeroom’s the only thing we don’t have together?”

“Right,” Finn says. “I could see if they’d move me.”

“It’s not too long.” Puck shrugs. “Maybe I can get this Ward guy to mark me present without me showing up, since we don’t have a first period class. Meet you after homeroom?”

“Sure,” Finn says. He leans over and gives Puck a quick kiss as they approach Finn’s homeroom. Puck grins at him and squeezes his hand before releasing it, then turns to go down the hall to his own homeroom. 

Puck makes it about halfway before he hears Santana behind him. 

“Hey, Puckerman! Is it true?” 

Puck stops and looks her suspiciously. “Is what true?”

“The rumor I heard going around this morning,” she says. 

“Uh.” Puck frowns and wipes his hands on his jeans before shoving them in his jacket pockets, and he curls his fingers around the lighter in the left pocket. He hadn’t said anything to her himself since everything had come out, just passed her name on to the cops and told her to go bug someone else the one time she tried to call. “What rumor?” he finally asks, looking around a little nervously. 

“That you were holding hands with Finn Hudson,” Santana says, hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me _that’s_ who you ditched me for, that human puddin’ pop.”

Puck glares at her and rolls his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?” he says. “For starters, he’s a lot better of a kisser.” 

Santana makes a disgusted face. “Seriously? Nobody’s a better kisser than me. Plus I’m like five hundred times hotter.”

“If you’re into that kind of thing, maybe,” Puck says with a shrug, and maybe he’s a little louder than he needs to be. “And Finn doesn’t kiss like he’s bored and counting down the seconds until he can be done with it.” 

“Ugh, whatever,” Santana says, storming past him and intentionally hitting him with her elbow. 

Puck rolls his eyes again and walks the rest of the way to homeroom, where no one mentions the news or him and Finn, which is better than only the news being mentioned for sure. Puck doesn’t hear about anything but high school gossip until they’re sitting in fourth period geometry. Mrs. Bletheim gives out a few papers and talks for ten minutes before saying she doesn’t have anything else for the first day, but they can’t leave until the bell. Puck sighs and turns to Finn. 

“You think it’s mystery meat or chicken fingers for lunch?”

“I think it might be those mystery meat fingers,” Finn says. “The ones they say are beef.”

Puck makes a face. “Yeah, those aren’t really beef,” he says, shaking his head. “I think—” He stops and tilts his head forward, trying to hear exactly what the people two rows up are saying. 

“What does it really hurt?” one guy says. “I heard it was girls _and_ guys. I bet they weren’t really complaining.” 

“Don’t listen to them,” Finn says quietly.

“They’re just saying what people are thinking,” Puck whispers. 

“You think that’s why Mr. Ryerson’s gone?” another guy says, laughing nastily. 

“Just ‘cause they’re thinking it, doesn’t mean they’ve gotta say it or that it’s right,” Finn says. 

“What do they mean about Ryerson?” 

“I always knew he was a pervert,” the first guy says. “Creepy. But someone still agreed to it.” 

“Hey!” Finn hisses in the two guys’ direction. “Why don’t you two shut up?”

“Were you helping Ryerson out?” the second one says, laughing again. “Good riddance to him.” 

“I don’t know anything about Ryerson. I just want you to shut it,” Finn says. “Some people don’t wanna hear that in class.”

“Whatever,” the first guy says, then turns back to his friend and keeps talking, but Puck can’t make it out. 

“Just drop it,” Puck says quietly to Finn. “Otherwise they’ll wonder why you care.” 

“They should keep their mouths shut,” Finn says, still glaring at the two gossips.

“Probably.” Puck shrugs. “But they’re not going to. You think they’ll at least have carrots instead of green beans?” 

“I dunno,” Finn says, slumping down into his seat, the glare unbroken.

Puck slides his desk over a little, then his chair a little further, and he reaches out and grabs Finn’s hand. “At least no one’s talking names,” he points out. “They’re just gossiping.” 

“Yeah,” Finn sighs.

“People will forget about in another week or two, anyway,” Puck says. He’s not sure that they will, but it seems like eventually they’ll run out of details to talk about on the news. 

“I hope so,” Finn says. He gives Puck’s hand a squeeze. “So, cake or brownie with lunch?”

“Brownie, definitely,” Puck says. Unfortunately, lunch doesn’t have carrots and does have green beans, but Puck does eat a brownie for dessert and they don’t overhear anyone else talking about the case during the rest of their classes or at practice. That’s how most of the first week and a half goes, because like Puck had thought, the news moves on to focusing on other things. Their days are pretty similar to each other, between mornings at the dumpster, their matching schedules, and practice after school most days. They get a few looks and a few comments in the hall, but Finn glares a lot and Puck glares and occasionally feints towards whoever’s making a comment, and Puck doesn’t really care what they say where he can’t hear it. 

The second Wednesday of school, Carole clears her throat during dinner and puts her fork down. “Boys, I need to discuss a few things with you.” 

“What kind of things?” Finn asks.

“I talked to one of the detectives today, and then one of the assistant prosecutors. Most of the cases have reached plea deals, but it does look like sometime in the future, there will be a trial for Ryan at least, even if there’s not any other trials,” Carole says, making a disgusted face as she says his name. 

“What does that mean?” Puck asks. “Does that mean I’ll have to testify?” 

“Possibly, yes,” Carole says. “It’s not scheduled at this point, but depending on the case that they assemble, yes, they may very well require your testimony. I think it’s probably better to prepare as if they will.” 

Puck sighs and nods. “Yeah. Okay. Did they call Mr. Yoder or do I need to mention it next time?” 

“I’ll make sure it’s taken care of,” Carole says. 

“Yeah, okay.” Puck plays with his fork, staring at his plate. “People are more likely to find out if I testify,” he says quietly to Finn when Carole stands up and goes to the refrigerator. 

“I don’t think they’re allowed to have pictures of you or anything, though,” Finn says. “Maybe you could, like, wear your hair different and then nobody’ll be able to describe you.”

“Hat or something,” Puck says. “We can go to Goodwill and find stuff.” Puck pushes his food around with his fork. “I just wish it was over.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Finn says. He reaches for Puck’s hand. “This is all so stupid. They should just be able to bring in the questions you already answered.”

“I don’t want to see him again. I mean, I don’t want to see any of them again, but I really don’t want to see him,” Puck says softly. “When he goes to trial, people are going to start talking about it again, and then I’ll be gone at least one day. And Santana’s pretty awful but she’s smart. Someone’s going to figure it out.” 

“I’ll skip, too,” Finn says. “We’ll tell everybody we went on a trip or something.”

“Yeah. Maybe that’ll work.” Puck pushes back from the table and frowns when he realizes Carole’s disappeared. “Huh.” He shrugs. “Let’s go sit out back,” he says to Finn, which is their code, more or less, for going outside to smoke, mainly because Puck doesn’t really want to remind Carole about it. 

Finn nods, taking their dishes and setting them in the sink, then follows Puck out back. As soon as the door is closed behind him, Finn says, “We could flee the state. I bet Florida’s nice. We could be beach bums.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, maybe so,” he says, his hand shaking a little as he lights a cigarette. “We’re not actually under arrest or anything, though, so wouldn’t it just be moving?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they won’t even really need you to testify. The news keeps saying there were a bunch of people, so maybe they have enough testimony without you,” Finn says. 

“Yeah. Maybe.” Puck takes a long drag on his cigarette. “I just wanted spending money. I didn’t mind mowing lawns or whatever, you know?”

“I know,” Finn says. He rests his hand on Puck’s knee and sighs. “I know.”

“At least I get to stay here,” Puck says, putting his head on Finn’s shoulder. “Silver lining or whatever.” 

“Yeah, that part’s good, at least,” Finn agrees.

Puck stays sitting beside Finn while he finishes that cigarette and smokes two more, and then they go inside and straight up to bed. Puck pulls off his clothes, climbing into bed in his boxers, and he holds the blankets up for Finn. Finn slides in next to Puck and wraps him in his arms.

“We’ll get through all of this,” Finn says.

“Yeah,” Puck says. “Biggest problem’ll be the way that Kurt kid looks at you.” He kisses Finn’s neck, then licks his ear. 

“What? Like I’m gonna mess up his hair just by existing in the same room?” Finn asks, tilting his head to give Puck better ear access.

“Nah, that’s how he looks at me. Like mohawks are contagious. He looks at you like you’re the last chocolate cupcake,” Puck says, sucking on Finn’s earlobe. 

“I’m _your_ chocolate cupcake,” Finn says.

Puck laughs against Finn’s neck. “Now I feel like we’re in one of your mom’s movies,” he says. “I’m not calling you chocolate cupcake.” He starts kissing at Finn’s neck, still laughing a little. 

“I don’t want you to,” Finn says. “I just want you to keep kissing my neck.”

“Yeah, good plan,” Puck says, moving his mouth down Finn’s jaw, kissing and licking. “I’ll tell him, though, next time it’s his turn in the dumpster.” 

Finn and Puck fall asleep after a lot more kissing, and the next morning turns out to be Kurt’s next turn in the dumpster, so after Puck helps toss him in, he looks over the edge and down at Kurt. 

“He’s not available.” 

“What?” Kurt says, a little less squeaky than he was even on the first day. 

“Finn. So you can stop looking at him like he’s the last chocolate cupcake.” Puck shrugs. “Not available.” 

“I don’t!” 

“Suit yourself, just stop,” Puck says, then walks over to Finn. “Do you think we could convince him the mohawk really is contagious?”

“Maybe,” Finn says. “I think maybe he thinks plaid is contagious.”

“Then we should wear more plaid,” Puck says. “You could steal your mom’s gel and do a faux-hawk.” 

“Do you think I’d look good like that?”

“Not as good as in the leather jacket you don’t have yet,” Puck says with a grin. 

“Some day,” Finn says. 

“It’ll be a good day,” Puck says, stopping a few feet from Finn’s homeroom and kissing him hard. Finn trails one of his hands down Puck’s back while they kiss. Puck hears someone making some kind of gagging sound, so he flips his middle finger in that general direction and kisses Finn harder. Once the bell rings, Puck pulls back. “See you after homeroom.” 

“Not if I see you first,” Finn says. 

Puck grins and heads down the hall, sliding into his seat just before Mr. Ward calls his name and he has to raise his hand. When homeroom ends, he walks back towards Finn’s homeroom, but he doesn’t see Finn right away, and when he looks in Finn’s homeroom, he’s not in there either. Puck frowns and wanders down the hall more or less aimlessly, ducking in bathrooms when any teachers give him weird looks. Eventually Puck decides to walk towards their second period class, even though there’s still time left before it, and when he turns a corner, he finally sees Finn coming towards him. 

“Where were you?” he blurts out, sounding more panicky than he means to. 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Finn says. “Mr. Schuester pulled me into his office!”

“Our Spanish teacher? Why?” 

“He says he found pot in my locker!” Finn says. “Which, that’s bullshit! I even told him I’d pee in a cup!”

“Yeah, we only have regular cigarettes, and I keep those in my pocket or my backpack, not my locker. And definitely not your locker.” Puck shakes his head. “Somebody must be trying to get you in trouble. What’s that guy that’s third string? I bet it was him! Is Mr. Schuester going to let you pee or whatever?”

“No, he’s letting me audition for the glee club,” Finn says. “Or making me, I guess.”

“Huh?” Puck shakes his head again. “That doesn’t make any sense. When is it?” 

“This afternoon, I guess?” 

“I don’t usually bring my guitar to school,” Puck says. “They might have one here, I guess.” 

“Are you gonna audition, too?” Finn asks.

“If he’s making you join, I guess so,” Puck says with a shrug. 

“Cool. We’ll be dorks together,” Finn says.

Puck takes Finn’s hand and nods. “Yeah. Everyone’ll think it’s like, a gay thing or something. And we’ll do something to that third string guy. Or is he second string? Whichever. We’ll do something to both of them.” 

“Different things? Or the same?”

“Either way. You got any ideas? I was thinking maybe silly string. The lawn furniture things take too long.” 

“Eggs are so 2008,” Finn says. 

“You’ve got to stop reading all the _Cosmo_ issues when you wait for me at Mr. Yoder’s,” Puck says with a grin. 

“No. I like the quizzes.”

“Yeah, I know,” Puck says, shaking his head and still grinning. “What do we have to do for this audition thing, anyway? Just sing?” 

“I guess,” Finn says. “He just told me be in the auditorium immediately after school.”

“You think we can sing the same song?” 

“I hope we can sing it at the same time so we can get out of there before Tanaka notices we aren’t at practice,” Finn says. 

“He probably won’t notice at all. We did scrimmage yesterday, remember? He’ll just make everyone run a lot today. We’ll figure out something to sing at lunch. At least we don’t sound bad,” Puck says. 

“Yeah, we sound awesome!”

They decide at lunch to do ‘Fight for Your Right’, and Puck frowns a little to himself when they walk into the auditorium. He doesn’t recognize any of the kids sitting there with Mr. Schuester at first, then he realizes that he knows, or used to know, one of them from temple, and another one is Kurt, who looks like Christmas came early once he realizes Finn’s there to audition for glee club. Mr. Schuester looks surprised to see Puck there and even more surprised when Puck borrows a guitar and Finn sits down behind the drums before they start singing. After they finish, though, Mr. Schuester seems really happy, and by the time he talks to them about changing electives and coming to rehearsals, it’s late enough that Puck is pretty sure it’s not worth going to football practice. 

“He’s more likely to notice we were missing if we show up this late,” Puck says. “We could see if your mom can get us a little early.” 

“Sounds good. I didn’t want to get sweaty, anyway,” Finn says.

Puck grins and stops on the sidewalk. “Bet you’ll take a shower later anyway.” 

“Hey, I’m doing better with that!” Finn says.

“As long as you’re not thinking about anyone else in the shower, it’s cool,” Puck says. 

“Never,” Finn says. “Why would I ever wanna think about anyone else?”

Puck shrugs. “I don’t know. Just making sure.” 

“Never,” Finn repeats firmly. Puck shrugs again and then kisses Finn, putting both of his arms around him, and they keep kissing until Carole shows up to drive them home. 

Joining the glee club turns out to be pretty fun, at least the singing and playing and performing part. It gets pretty awkward by the end of September, because Santana joins with some other Cheerios and starts glaring at Puck during most rehearsals. By that point, Puck’s realized that Kurt and the girl from temple—Rachel—fight a lot because they both want to spend the entire rehearsal flirting with Finn, who ignores them. The funniest part is when the head Cheerio, Quinn, asks Finn out, and then she decides that she’s going to pray for their souls. Puck’s pretty sure that she just wants to call attention to how she was rejected or something, since Kurt finally admits he’s gay, and Quinn doesn’t mention praying for him at all. 

Puck’s birthday is on a Monday, and Carole lets them skip school that day so they can take a trip over the weekend. They go over to Cleveland, because Puck’s always wanted to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and then to the Pro Football Hall of Fame before just staying at home all day on Puck’s birthday and having chicken casserole and chocolate cake for dinner. 

The next morning, Puck has his weekly meeting with Mr. Yoder, which he and Finn actually look forward to, though for different reasons, and when Carole clears her throat that Wednesday evening, Puck automatically reaches for Finn’s hand and thinks that at least he’s had some good days to prepare him for whatever Carole’s about to say. 

“Is it the trial?” Puck asks before Carole can say anything. 

“Two things, and yes, the trial is one of them. The other one is more pleasant. I officially have permanent legal guardianship now.” 

“Oh, cool.” Puck shrugs and then grins at Finn. “Good thing it’s guardianship and not adoption, I guess.”

“Yeah, that would be kinda awkward,” Finn says. “Thanks, Mom.”

“And, yes, the trial is scheduled to start in a little under two weeks from now, the Monday after Thanksgiving. At this point, they do need to call you as a witness, Noah. The assistant prosecutor anticipates that will be on Tuesday, but since it follows the Thanksgiving weekend, I think the two of you should stay home until they know you won’t be called any more,” Carole says. “The assistant prosecutor does need to meet with you early next week to review your testimony and the types of questions you’ll be asked, both by him and when you’re cross-examined.” She tries to smile at Puck and mostly fails, but Puck appreciates the effort, and he squeezes Finn’s hand. “I think they’re impressed with your calm demeanor.” 

Puck snorts. “Okay. I guess I seem calm. Football season’ll be over. We should be back before the end of that week, right? For glee club?”

“Mom, you’ve gotta tell them we have to be back for glee club,” Finn says. 

“I’ll make sure he understands you have commitments at the end of the week,” Carole says. “They don’t want to disrupt your education any more than absolutely necessary, of course.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Puck nods and stands up. “We’re going to go sit out back,” he tells Carole, pulling Finn with him, even though now it’s a lot colder when they go out and smoke. After the trial, Puck figures he’ll try to cut back, but they have to get through that without anyone figuring it out. 

The next Monday after school, Puck goes to meet with the assistant prosecutor, who tries to make Finn wait outside until Puck crosses his arms, glares, and points out that they don’t even have any good magazines, and Finn’s going to be in the courtroom waiting for him, so why can’t he be in the room while they go over stuff? The assistant prosecutor gives in, and after what feels like hours, he says Puck’s ready to go on the stand. 

They have school the next day, but Puck wakes up and convinces Carole they might as well skip it, too, if they’re supposedly going on a trip, so he and Finn spend six days eating, watching tv, and making out, which Carole seems to find amusing for some reason. They go to bed early on Monday night, but Puck just stares at the ceiling for a long time. 

“What did your mom say about the news?” he finally whispers. “Did they mention it tonight?”

“Just that the trial was underway and they did, like, opening statements? That’s what they’re called?” Finn says.

“Yeah, I think so. Were there cameras?”

“I think it’s the artist person only, ‘cause of the, uh. The minors.”

“Yeah.” Puck sighs. “And we have to go in that side entrance. At least people seem to really think we’re on a trip.” 

“Yeah, I got a text from Mike asking how Michigan is, or Milwaukee, since he can’t remember where we said we were going,” Finn says.

“I don’t remember either,” Puck says. “It’ll be over this time tomorrow, right?” 

“I hope so,” Finn says. 

“Hey Finn?” Puck whispers after several more minutes pass. 

“Yeah?”

Puck turns towards Finn, resting his head on Finn’s upper arm. “I do love you.” 

“I know,” Finn says, smiling at Puck. “Sometimes I know stuff.”

“Jerk,” Puck says, grinning back and sticking his tongue out at Finn. 

“Yeah, but I love you, too.”

“Yeah. I know.” Puck sighs and closes his eyes. “It’s good.” 

“Almost there,” Finn whispers, pressing his lips against Puck’s forehead. 

Puck nods, his eyes still closed. “Yeah. Close.” He puts one hand on Finn’s chest and tries to relax. It must work, because the next thing he recalls is waking up in the morning, and he groans, burying his face against Finn. 

“I want bacon cheeseburgers after this,” he announces to Finn’s chest. 

“Same,” Finn says. “And a real vacation.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Puck agrees. “Even if it’s just staying here for a few days with pizza and without your mom off from work.” He leaves his face buried against Finn for a few minutes longer before groaning again and getting up to get dressed. None of them are particularly talkative as they eat and then drive to the courthouse, and Puck puts on a hat and trenchcoat they found at Goodwill when they park, keeping them on while they go through a side entrance, up some stairs, and into the courtroom. The prosecutor shakes Puck’s hand and directs him to where he has to wait to testify, which isn’t where Finn and Carole are supposed to sit. 

Eventually the judge arrives, they bring Ryan in, and Puck stares at his shoes until they call him as the day’s first witness. The testimony goes about like Puck expected from the preparation session, but Ryan’s lawyer gets up in his face, and Puck glances out towards Finn. Finn looks like he wants to leap out of his seat and strangle someone, probably the lawyer, but probably also Ryan. Ryan’s lawyer asks about Santana, and then about “any relationships since the alleged incidents.” 

Puck answers, because he has to, but then the lawyer asks about Finn and Puck and sex, and that wasn’t something the assistant prosecutor had mentioned as a possible topic. The assistant prosecutor does object, but the judge tells Puck he has to answer anyway, which means an entire courtroom of people Puck doesn’t know, Ryan, Carole, and Finn himself have to listen to Puck recite what he has and hasn’t done sexually with Finn. There’s a lot more on the ‘not done’ side, so much so that Ryan’s lawyer acts like he thinks Puck is lying to get sympathy or something. It finally ends, though, and neither lawyer says they want the right to call him back to the stand, which means Puck’s part is done at least, and the judge adjourns the entire courtroom for lunch or something. 

“Let’s get _out_ of here,” Puck says as soon as he reaches Finn. 

“You did great,” Finn says. “Mom wouldn’t let me punch that guy.”

“Yeah, that’s probably good. I want those hamburgers now. And a milkshake. And a smoke. And a nap.” Puck glares at the back of Ryan’s lawyer’s head. “They didn’t warn me about that.” 

“But you’re okay?” Finn asks. “I’m sorry they made you go through all that.”

“Yeah.” Puck steps closer to Finn as they leave the courtroom, putting on the coat and hat again. “It was _embarassing_ ,” he whispers. 

“Yeah, that was so shitty of that guy,” Finn says. “You did so good, though. I was really proud of you. I still am really proud of you.”

Puck manages a half-grin, squeezing Finn’s hand tightly, and after they get their lunch and go back home, Puck pulls Finn into the bed. “I just want to go back to being the two guys who do football and glee club and kiss a lot.” 

“We’re almost there,” Finn says. “It’s gonna be soon.”

“I hope 2010 turns out better, is all I’m saying,” Puck says, yawning a little. “Back to school tomorrow?”

“You don’t wanna stay out another day?”

“I want to do something normal. Go to school tomorrow. Skip a day next week without an excuse letter,” Puck says. 

“As normal as life with the glee club gets,” Finn says, putting his arms around Puck and pulling him close. 

Puck laughs. “Yeah, exactly.” 

Everything is normal for two and a half days, until the start of history on Friday afternoon when someone comes from the office and tells their teacher that Finn and Puck are to report to the office. When they get there, Carole’s waiting and she’s already signed them out. 

“The verdict should be this afternoon,” she says. “If you still want to be there when it’s read.”

“I don’t know if I want to, but I think I need to,” Puck says with a shrug, then glares at a Cheerio passing by who looks too interested in their conversation. Most of the school has ignored the actual trial, probably because Ryan wasn’t the one having any sex or paying for it, but Puck still doesn’t want anyone to get curious. 

They go in the same side entrance at the courthouse, and then they sit in a relatively crowded courtroom for about forty-five minutes before the judge comes in and then the jury. Puck doesn’t really understand all of the counts that are listed, but it’s a very long list, and the judge asks if the jury has a verdict. They do, so they start reading all the counts again, this time with a ‘guilty’ after all of them. 

“That’s a lot,” Puck whispers to Finn during the pause between all the guilty verdicts and whatever the judge is about to do. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah. That’s way more than just you. That’s a lot of people,” Finn whispers back. 

“Yeah.” Puck nods, and then the judge calls for silence and says he’s going to sentence Ryan immediately. Each count doesn’t have that many years with it, but Puck’s pretty sure that it all adds up to more than fifty, and maybe more than eighty. The judge announces the trial is over, Ryan gets escorted out of the courtroom, and Puck sags against Finn. 

“It’s done,” Finn says. “Wanna go home?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Puck agrees, nodding slowly. “I want to go home. And then I want to forget he ever existed.” 

“Okay,” Finn says.

Puck lifts his head up and manages a real grin. “I want to kiss you on stage after we win Sectionals, too.” 

“You can definitely do that,” Finn says. 

They have another week before Sectionals, a week that doesn’t actually result in Puck smoking any less. Maybe because of the verdict being on Friday afternoon, there’s not a lot of talk about it at school, at least not that Puck hears, and no one seemed to really notice that he and Finn left school early on Friday afternoon. 

He tells Mr. Yoder on Tuesday morning that he thought he’d feel different after the trial. And he does, a little, in the sense that he doesn’t look over his shoulder for Ryan to appear, and he knows that it’s going to be decades before Ryan’s eligible for parole. Puck still thinks he and Finn need to make sure they leave Lima after high school, because most of the housewives are still around, and according to the long article in the Sunday paper, most of them are still married, too. Puck doesn’t know if Mrs. Blake or any of the others told their husbands who he was, but he still looks over his shoulder a little. 

On Friday night, Carole takes them over to the movie theater, and it turns out they’re a week early for _Avatar_ , so they watch _The Blind Side_ and then decide to watch the new Disney movie, _The Princess and the Frog_ , too, because by then it’s after nine and most of the little kids are at home being put to bed. 

When the movie’s over, Puck yawns and leans on Finn while the credits play. “You don’t mind me using your shoulder as a pillow all the time?” he asks jokingly. 

“Nah,” Finn says. “I’m kinda used to it now. I’d be sad if you stopped.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep doing it, then,” Puck says, then laughs a few moments later. “I think the workers want us out, though.” He straightens and stands up. “Don’t tell half of glee club we went to the movies tonight, I think Rachel was gathering up steam for a fifth lecture on ‘proper procedures the night before competition’.” 

“I bet she’d approve of us seeing a singing movie, though,” Finn says.

“I don’t know, it’s not one of her ‘classics’,” Puck says with a laugh as they leave the theater, and yeah, they get a few weird looks at their hands when they walk through the lobby, but Puck knows what those are for. They’re not housewives or husbands, and at least Puck knows there’s no chance of running into Ryan in a movie theater bathroom or popcorn line. 

When they get to Sectionals the next morning, they have to make up a brand-new set list, which makes everyone a little crazy, or crazier than usual. Puck and Finn go outside twenty minutes before their performance to smoke, and that results in a lecture from Rachel about staying with the group and then lung health. That’s the point that Puck wishes he still had a lit cigarette, so he could blow the smoke in her face, because she doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but instead he brushes past her, hand in Finn’s. 

Winning Sectionals feels pretty good, but what makes it even better is doing exactly what he told Finn he wanted to do. Puck puts both arms around Finn and grins. “Gonna kiss you now,” he says over the cheering around them. 

“Yeah, you are!” Finn agrees. 

Puck laughs and does just that, kissing Finn while they’re still in the middle of the stage, and after a few moments, he hears pictures being taken. When they pull apart, Carole’s smiling widely at them and snapping more pictures. It’s probably a good thing Carole has a digital camera, Puck decides five minutes later, because she’s taken posed pictures and candid pictures of him and Finn and then all of New Directions, and if it were a film camera, Puck thinks it’d probably be a few dozen rolls. 

Rachel and Mr. Schuester insist on a show choir circle, and then everyone starts to disperse to head home, and Puck leans on Finn as they follow Carole out to the car. Puck’s pretty sure leaning on Finn is one of those metaphor things they spent weeks on in English, but he also just likes leaning against Finn and Finn likes it, too. 

A week after the trial’s over and a win at Sectionals, and even with the abysmal football season, Puck thought maybe he’d be able to quit smoking or get naked with Finn, but Mr. Yoder says it all takes time, and that even though it’s really frustrating, it’s better than pretending he’s fine and having some kind of breakdown later or ‘making poor choices’ as Mr. Yoder says. Puck isn’t sure what the poor choices would be, but Mr. Yoder looks more serious than usual when he says that, so Puck figures they’re probably pretty bad. That doesn’t make dealing with everything any more fun, but at least it means Puck shouldn’t do anything that ends up screwing up Finn or even Carole. And Mr. Yoder does tell him, repeatedly, that he really will get to a point where he doesn’t need to go to therapy every week, or smoke throughout the day, or tense up at the idea of being in bed naked with Finn naked, too, so Puck figures it’s just a matter of time, however long it takes. 

In the meantime, he and Finn are getting really, _really_ creative at making out, and that’s something they can enjoy for a long time in the future. 

“Think we can convince her to stop for ice cream on the way home?” Puck says quietly to Finn as they walk. 

“Yeah, I think that’s definitely doable,” Finn says. “I’ll even give you a bite of mine this time.”

Puck laughs. “Well, now I _know_ you love me.”

“Yeah, well,” Finn says, shrugging. “Duh.”

Puck shrugs too. “Yeah. Back at you.”


End file.
